


Into the Grey

by G E Monica (J1NXY0)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Forced Marriage, Friendship, Imprisonment, Manipulation, POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sailing, Sea Monsters, Slow Romance, Storms, Swordfighting, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J1NXY0/pseuds/G%20E%20Monica
Summary: Part IThe Girl with no NameWas it madness or desperation that made me agree to this?Today is the anniversary of Zalem rescuing me from the wreckage of the ship where I was found; eight years ago to the day. This would make me twenty this year, but I wouldn’t be able to say the exact date of my birth. There isn’t much that I can remember of my younger years, before the wreckage.I have been living in Zalem’s manor ever since, and for the past two years I have been his mistress. In between that, my rescuers’ spouse passed away, and in his words; ‘It is now time for you to be my wife, Little Fox.’
Kudos: 1





	1. Toccata

**Author's Note:**

> I think I know how to structure my posts a bit better now, and will try to regularly post each chapter once they are reread and edited a bit more.

I stand behind the curtains of yellow silk, waiting for them to rise like the break of day. There’s an almost full length, oval mirror on the wall in front of me. A short and willowy girl stares back at me through dull, blue eyes. I tend to avoid the mirrors in the manor; they only remind me of how hollow I am. I try not to dwell on it as Cassie, my maid fights to gather all of my short, peach coloured hair into a respectable up-do. It is generally easier to perform without hair in my eyes, so I stand patiently for her.  
Cassie fusses with the shoulders of my white dress and as the curtains begin to lift, she scurries off the stage. On my own, I’m left to face the mass of almost a hundred stares. This is not the first time I’ve performed for everyone at court or for the Emperor, yet I still get nervous.  
It is about the only time I really feel alive.  
I curtsy before my audience and cross the stage to take a seat on the stool, letting my shoulder nestle under the shoulder of the glossy black harp. I lift my hand up to the long strings and the newly planted engagement ring on my finger weighs heavy. I don’t allow it to stop me from focusing, or forgetting my newest piece. This one has a faster tempo than my listeners are used to. I dive straight into it, losing myself to the music as my fingers pluck the strings in the formation that I memorised.  
I just wish that I could remember my childhood. I doubt I played the harp back then, somehow. Recently, my instructor told me that I had been his easiest student and that I made him proud to play for Emperor Hulan.  
I focus on plucking those strings, watching my fingers dance across the instrument and the music flows naturally. I avoid looking up at the crowd, even though I know that Zalem is sitting in the front row, smiling just as proudly.  
My fiancé, I can barely get my head around the fact.  
I’ve already been told how lucky I am and how excited I must be to be marrying the General of Mereland. But I have yet to have felt either of those things. I’ve overheard the gossip as well. That Zalem Esquel is twice my age and how crude it is that his last wife, Lady Brallian has only been mourned for several months. And if we have a child, I will muddy his pure Merean bloodline.  
I doubt that I was born and raised to be groomed into an early marriage, somehow. Yet, here I am.  
The musical notes layer and blend at my touch, the melody flows out of me until my heart is ready to burst. Before I know it, the piece comes to an end. The court cheers, I begin a new set, even more energetic than the last. I play for three quarters of an hour, until the tears in my eyes mirror the ones shining on the faces of my listeners.  
It truly is, the only time I feel alive. 

All too soon, I quickly return to reality, now that the performance room is abandoned and everyone is filing into the banquet hall of the Emperor’s palace.  
“You played so beautifully tonight.”  
Zalem takes my arm, wearing me as a fine accessory to his bleak, velvet short coat. It isn’t as though he needs me to stand out, tall in stature, muscular and handsome for his age. On his other side, he wears his beautiful Austa sword on full display, the steel is almost as white as my dress, and the golden guard of the weapon glows in the candlelight of the hall.  
“Thank you,” I utter, as he pulls a seat out for me.  
I should be grateful to have been saved by the man at my side. To be given a home, when I had nothing in this country. I want for nothing, as the gossipers say. But I still can’t place the feeling. It could be dread, or a fear of missing out? Ever since Zalem pulled me out of those icy waters, putting his own coat around me, I have been his Little Fox.  
We eat a dinner of delicacies, a few seats down from Emperor Hulan Brava. It is an honour to be seated so close, yet I know that it still isn’t enough for my future husband. At home, he is all too vocal about how much he sacrifices for the country, how much he has given to Mereland and how little he is rewarded in return.  
When the food is taken away, treasures are brought before the Emperor. Placed at his feet, like a shrine of worship, his people pile their gifts of jewels and gems high. This is the only time that people outside of the graces of court are able to barter their way in for the sheer privilege of breathing the same air as Emperor Hulan.  
The line is long, and the ceremony is always tiresome to watch. I wish that I could just go back to playing my harp. I stare ahead, imagining the melody in my mind, and try to pass the time.  
Near the front of the queue, a man is staring back at me. I’m not sure how long his eyes have been stuck to my face, aiming to garner my attention. One of his dark eyebrows is tilted and his mouth is pulled to one side. He looks annoyed with me.  
My lips part, wanting to ask – no – to protest what I could have possibly done to deserve such a scornful stare.  
I thin my eyes, frowning back at the man in the queue. He’s dressed like a vagabond, each layer of his thrown-together outfit is a different colour and texture; red, blue, black, white, held together under a thick belt of tan leather, none of his attire hanging at the same length or width. His face is far from shaven, nor is it well groomed like Zalem’s facial hair. His jagged and messy black hair seem to have never met a comb or clippers in his life, it just hangs in his dark eyes as he continues to stare.  
A grin forms across the vagabonds face and I still can’t believe that he chose to appear in front of the Emperor this way. Did he lose a bet? I’m almost embarrassed for him. He nudges the taller man next to him, whispering behind his hand so that I can’t see. At least his friend is dressed more appropriately for court, the hair on his head and his face both neatly trimmed short.  
I lift my goblet of wine to my lips, pretending to be disinterested in the gossip. I’m sure he is saying something awful about me behind his barely washed hand.  
“Ah, the Culver boys... What have you got for me this time?” the Emperor asks gleefully, sitting tall in his overbearing throne.  
To my disbelief, the vagabond and what appears to be his taller brother are the ones being so eagerly greeted. They kneel on the white marble in front of our ruler.  
“I hope it’s not another gory snake head,” the Emperor mocks.  
“I can assure it is much more practical,” announces the badly dressed brother. He straightens up whilst the taller of the two produces a small box from underneath his gilded buttoned coat. The box is black, decorated with golden paint, but even from here I can see that it is weather damaged.  
Emperor Hulan snaps his fingers and a servant rushes forwards to collect the treasure, inspecting it before placing it in the figureheads’ outstretched hand. He flips the box open, expecting to find rubies, I imagine.  
“Is this some sort of practical joke?” he says bristling with impatience, “There is nothing but scratched metal inside.”  
“Your Eminency, if you would do the honours of turning the handle on the side of the box,” the tidier brother spoke at last.  
The Emperor pauses for an excruciatingly long time. I almost wince. I’ve known men to have been flogged for presenting meagre gifts to Hulan at best, publicly executed at worse. In his own time, he begins to rotate the metal handle on the outside of the small box.  
The Emperor’s eyes bulge, and for a moment I think that someone has hopped onto my harp in the room next door. Instead, music is emanating from the tiny box, melodic yet haunting. Whilst the gasps of awe emit from the court, I wonder who has written such a piece and somehow stored it inside of a box.  
I’m not sure if I imagine it, but I swear that the ragged Culver brother tilts his head my way, winking very subtly.  
“This is quite something, boys,” the Emperor says. I assume that he is pretending to not be just as baffled as I am. “Where was it found?”  
“On the outside of the – ah – of the harbour,” the shorter brother begins, wincing half way through his bravado. Again it was subtle, but I could have possibly been the only one who noticed the more respectable Culver stomping down hard on his brother’s foot.  
“Interesting. I would like to know how it works,” the Emperor muses as he hands the musical box back to his closest servant. He dismisses the boys with the wave of his jewel adorned hand.  
The chilling plucking of notes from the inanimate object is still terrorising my thoughts as the Culvers take their leave. To my horror, the untidy brother swaggers in a sort of ‘S’ shape towards our side of the room. I have to cover my face, pretending to groom the hair that sweeps across my forehead.  
He stops in front of our table, bowing swiftly. “General Zalem, it was quite exhilarating to hear your betrothed performing tonight. So much beauty, so much emotion…” he begins to flatter.  
“Get to the point, Koyle,” Zalem says gruffly.  
In this very moment, I’m almost glad to be engaged to him.  
“Very well. It has come to my attention that your good lady has become quite the enigma, and no one at court can even tell me…” his dark eyes fix on me once again, he’s addressing me, “your name?”  
No one has ever asked me that before. I now know why he had looked so annoyed. It was because no one could tell him my name.  
“She is not from Mereland,” Zalem answers for me, “Therefore, she has no Merean name. But soon, she shall be Lady Esquel.”  
But I did have a name. Some part of me could still remember that much, even if I hadn’t heard it on the lips of someone else for almost a decade.  
“Is that so?” Koyle Culver is still focusing most of his attention on me. “I think that we may have met before, my Lady.”  
I frankly glance up and down at his poor attempt of fashion. “I think I would remember, Mr Culver,” I slight him. Just as he slighted me with that music box – it took me hours to compose just one single piece of music, whilst all he did was find a trick box at the bottom of the sea.  
He nods, showing me an almost regretful smile. “In any case, would you be available tomorrow to speak business?”  
“With you, or your brother?” Zalem grumbles, “I’d rather put my best interests in Sento.”  
“I’m hoping to branch out, or rather step out from Sento’s shadow. Why have two great Salvagers on the same ship, when you could have two great Salvage ship captains?”  
“Do I look like a man who gambles?” my betrothed asks with a deadpan tone.  
Koyle leans in a bit closer to our table, conjuring what he probably thinks is his most charming smile. “I know a way through The Grey,” he reveals.  
“I don’t believe you,” Zalem says what I’m thinking.  
“Where do you think that unusual box came from? I’ve never seen anyone in Austa or Yala with that sort of mechanical skill. Heck, they can barely even build a crossbow properly in this city,” Koyle persuades.  
“Why ask for my patronage and not one of the other wealthy nobles?”  
“General, you know me…”  
“Sometimes I wish that I didn’t,” Zalem admits with a sigh, rubbing the ache between his brows. I almost want to do the same thing. I just wish this jester would leave us in peace.  
“I’m just another Salvager to them, but to you General, I’m still a soldier at heart,” he is almost pleading. I can see it in his pitch black eyes.  
I see it now. I damn myself for not noticing it before, but perhaps that was Koyle’s point. The reason why his outfit was so garish and layered was because underneath he was quite obviously armed to the teeth with sharp steel.  
“Visit at noon. I should be available by then,” Zalem gives in.  
“Yes,” Koyle wrings his hands together, “Yes, thank you so much, General.”  
“Don’t thank me yet,” he grunts, “I haven’t offered you anything.”  
Just when I think he’s never going to stop talking, Koyle flashes me a grin and another small wink as he bows and finally swaggers away from our table.  
“I’m not sure why I just invited that fool over,” Zalem admits to me quietly.  
“I don’t think he was going to take ‘no’ for an answer,” I reassure, layering on a tone of disgust.


	2. Nightmare

I want to run, but my feet are frozen in place. I know that I’m being chased, but I can’t see what or where it is. I’m surrounded by darkness. I’m screaming before it even grabs me, icy and wet, my sleep monster wraps around me, crushing my arms against my sides. I thrash to get free, but it only lifts me up from the floor, my legs kick in the air as I’m dragged deeper into the darkness.  
I finally awake from the nightmare that could have gripped me for an eternity, it felt so damn real. I’m tangled in my bed covers, soaked with sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. That would explain the constriction nightmare. I prop myself up, glimpsing the moonlight that creeps around the edges of the curtains, relieved that I was only dreaming.   
But I always have the same nightmares. I’m always alone and in the darkness, and the monster always catches me.   
I slide out of my dampened bed, I’m tempted to wake Zalem and tell him how frightened I am. He’s always comforted me in the past, and on the rare occasions that he would share my bed for the whole night, the monster would never visit.   
When we marry, will we always sleep together? Perhaps I’ll never be scared again.  
I draw the curtains letting the white light of the moon and the stars spill in. Zalem has a busy morning tomorrow, it would be best not to wake him, especially as he has that Salvager idiot coming around to chew his ear off again.   
I pull open my bedside draw, finding my notepad and graphite pencil and write down my dream, as I always do. I’ve found it is the best catharsis. Now that I think about it, it was probably a sea serpent that got me. I’ve studied plenty of books on them attacking ships, but I’ve not sailed since the disaster which I still have no memory of.   
I sigh, crawling back into my wide bed. Could the dreams be fragments of what happened to me eight years ago? 

“Did you have a fight with your sheets in the night, my Lady?” Cassie arrives, with a tray of breakfast for me.  
I dip my hands into the basin of water near the door, rubbing away the smudges of graphite from my fingers before I eat. “Yes, and I think the sheets won,” I utter.   
“I’ll make the bed fresh for you,” she says kindly.   
She scurries around behind me, stripping the white covers and sheet from my bed whilst I nibble on the selection of fruit that the kitchen maids have prepared for me. Melon, pineapple and grapes, with a pot of steaming chamomile tea, it is just what I need to revitalise my body and mind.   
“What would you like to do today?” Cassie asks. Her momentum around my bedroom slows momentarily to wipe away a smudge of graphite from my cheek. “The gardens should be quite empty and peaceful today with everyone preparing to sail out.”   
“I think I will save that for later, Cass, when that annoying boy comes over,” I pout, finishing the rest of my tea.  
“We have a gentleman visiting today?”   
I sigh, “Far from it.”  
“I best tell Mara to bake a cake, and prepare a bath for you, young lady,” Cassie says, thrilled by the idea.   
I blink rapidly, but she has already scurried through the door before I can protest. “I do like cake,” I murmur anyway. I arise from my small dining table, following her to the bathing room.  
Cass has added oils and rose petals to the water already, I can smell it from the tiled hallway. I’ll be glad to wash the sweat from my panicked nightmare away.   
She leaves me to it for a while, returning with a soft yellow towel and a comfortable pale blue day dress for me to wear.   
I tend to wonder if my real mother was ever this attentive towards me. I have no memory of the woman who brought me into this world, but I try not to let it get to me too often. Cassie has looked after me ever since I was twelve, and has given me all of the maternal love that I could have ever asked for.   
“This one is nice with your eyes,” she says with a smile, as I slip into the soft fitting dress. “Would you like some kohl around them?”  
It takes me a while to figure out that she’s talking about painting my eyelids black. “It never looks right on me,” I admit.   
“I think I’ve figured out a way to make it work with your eye-shape,” she says with excitement, heading towards the cosmetic table.   
I take a seat for her to experiment with the kohl around my eyes. Cass tugs very gently at the skin around my round eyes, lightly painting black onto my pale lash-line.   
She appears happy with the results, holding a hand mirror to my face for me.   
“That does look better,” I say with surprise. I turn my head from side to side, where Cassie has lined my eyes very lightly with the kohl but dragged a lot of it out towards my hairline.   
“Your gorgeous eyes look even bigger,” she squeals with glee. “Can I do your hair up?”   
“Please do, I’d like to spend some time composing a new piece of music,” I nod.  
“We might as well grow your hair out this season, even at this length it falls in your eyes,” Cass suggests, combing it away from my face with her fingers.   
“Or I could shave it all off,” I tease, just to hear her gasp with disapproval.


	3. Misnomer

I lose track of the time whilst I pluck the strings of my harp. The study room is bright and warm, making me feel sleepy, but I continue to compose.   
“Truly breathtaking,” a deep voice speaks from the doorway.   
I glance up, expecting to see my fiancé. My jaw falls slack as I recognise those dark eyes and scruffy hair. His attire is a little less haphazard today. He’s dressed more like a sailor in light, baggy clothes.   
“Mr Culver, are you snooping around our manor?” I accuse.   
“Certainly not. Your maid, erm, Cassie invited me in to wait for the General to return,” he drawls, taking a step inside the study. He begins to pick books off the shelves that surround us, with mild interest. “People call me Koyle by the way, or Koy. I could hear you playing, I felt rude just eavesdropping outside. I assume you’ve been playing the harp for most of your life?”   
“No, I only started learning last summer,” I correct, watching him closely, spreading his grubby hands across my reading collection. I place my own hands down in my lap, fighting the urge to pull him away from the shelves.   
“You’re kidding?” he turns to me, appearing surprised. “But you write the music yourself?”   
“Yes,” I say with a slight frown.   
“I don’t see any sheet music in front of you,” Koyle points out.   
“I remember it in my head.”   
“That’s unheard of,” he argues with a smirk, as if he doesn’t believe me.  
“I thought it was the norm,” I admit, unable to stare him down any longer. I get up from my stool, giving my limbs a stretch.   
“Oh please, don’t let me stop you from playing,” he says hastily.   
“I’m due a wander around the gardens whilst the weather is nice,” I inform, spreading the creases out of my flowing blue dress.  
“Wait – please – wait,” Koyle utters with even more haste, crossing the study. I think that he is about to block my path, but he stops behind me, tightly clutching the collar of his white shirt. “I want to know your name.”   
“I don’t have one,” I remind him, a matter-of-factly.   
“People must call you by something.”   
“Lady, or Zalem calls me Little Fox,” I say, feeling restless.   
“Those aren’t real names. Those are titles and nicknames,” he points out.   
“I can’t remember my name,” I say bitingly. It bursts out of me, my voice growing to a shout that I have no control over. “There, I said it.”  
I expect the Salvager to back away, or at least shout back at me. He must think I’m a mad woman. I’ve been nothing but rude to him, when all he wants to know is what he should call me. I should be happy that someone wants to learn my real name. I wish that I knew what it was, but it has been so much easier to forget about it over the years and respond to Fox.  
“Make a new one,” Koyle says gently.   
“What?”  
“Make a new name,” he encourages, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Everyone should have a name, no matter where they come from.”   
I listen intently, calming down as I consider what I should go by. I glance around the room and I must look as lost as I feel. I think about all the books that I have read, all the places and the plants and animals that I have learnt about.   
“J –” I murmur.   
“Is that it?” he asks, a smile dancing across his lips.   
“How would you spell it? J-a-i?” I check nervously. I’m not sure if I am nervous or excited. I could very possibly be breaking some unwritten law about outsiders not being allowed to have names, as Zalem has always taught me.  
Koyle cracks an even bigger smile, letting out a small chuckle.  
“What’s so funny?”   
“Nothing,” he barely keeps a straight face.  
“You don’t think that it suits me?”  
“It suits you just fine. It’s just that Jai is usually a boy’s name,” he lets on what is amusing him so much.   
“I don’t mind that,” I decide.   
“Good. It is better than what my mother called me. I reckon she was just relaxing on deck, saw a pile of ropes and thought ‘Ah, yes, Coil – I shall name him Koyle,” he jokes, “Very imaginative.”   
A giggle escapes from me. It isn’t a sound that I’m used to making and I become horribly aware of it. I realise I have never had a conversation last so long with anyone before.   
“So, do you really hope to marry Zalem, Jai?” he asks, catching me off-guard.  
Can he somehow tell that I am having doubts about the engagement? Is it written so clearly across my face? I feel a bit sick just thinking about my future, and giddy from hearing him speak my name.   
“It makes sense,” I say quietly. I hope that no passing servants can hear him so blatantly question the marriage.   
Koyle doesn’t seem convinced.   
“You said that you thought that we’ve met before,” I bring up.  
“Ah, yes. I was up almost all night thinking about that,” he says with a sigh. He appears to be relieved that I’ve reminded him. “I was part of Zalem’s crew when we found your destroyed ship. I was, er, the one to actually see you first and inform the rest of the crew.” He avoids my eyes for the first time and I wonder if Koyle is somehow ashamed or regretful for sharing the information with me.   
“You spotted me?”  
“Just a flash of red hair and fair skin, really,” he informs me. “I’ve always wondered what had happened to the little girl that we pulled out from the water. Practically blue from the cold, but somehow still alive… Eventually, news goes around the city that Zalem is marrying the best harpist of our time, but she isn’t even Merean. I thought surely not, that can’t be the same girl…”   
His words fill me with so much sorrow. I find my breathing hard to control, my hands are shaking. Feelings and memories of my trauma that I have buried so deep are beginning to resurface.   
“I’ve never forgotten that day. You’re living proof that people can make it through The Grey, mostly in one piece. Sento and I have been testing that ever since,” Koyle continues, expelling so much passion. “There has to be other islands out there – there has to be a whole land of people who look just like you do, Jai. And I can’t help but blame myself for letting Zalem confine you to this comfortable cage. Don’t you want to find out who you are?”  
I sniffle. “I do,” I say, before bursting into tears. I’m so mortified, but I can’t help but weep.   
He panics for a moment. He probably didn’t expect me to cry. I’ve been numb for so long, I didn’t see it coming either.  
“You could sail with us?” Koyle offers. “Unless I’m wrong, and you’re happy to marry the General. You won’t ever have to see me again. I just need to know what is going to make you happiest, for my own peace of mind.”  
I dry my face on my sleeves, highly aware of how much I’m still shaking. The kohl that Cassie had so expertly placed around my eyes transfers to my dress. I’m a complete mess.  
“I’m afraid,” I confess. “I have nightmares all the time about sea monsters.”   
“I can show you how to defend yourself,” he says, grinning hopefully.   
“Anyway, I don’t think Zalem will let me leave the island.”  
“Let me worry about Zalem,” Koyle winks.


	4. Gardens

“What a lovely young man,” Cassie says as we leave the manor and begin our walk down the trail towards the botanical gardens, on the outskirts of Austa, “Handsome, too.”   
“I don’t see the appeal,” I say, pretending that Koyle hasn’t changed my whole perspective on my life in one afternoon. I’ve never been given my own choice on anything before, besides learning the harp. I can’t help but think the only reason the Salvager came to me was because of his own guilt.  
I fixed my face and changed my dress before venturing out and if Cassie noticed anything different about me, she hasn’t pointed it out. She links arms with me and we support each others’ footing down the rocky path. The heat is dry whilst the sun is high in the sky, but we remain mostly shaded by the palms and the masses of jasmine vines that hang along the ridges. The sweet aroma is intoxicating and utterly signifies the height of spring.  
We reach the well-tended part of the gardens where the land has been flattened and laboriously looked after. The different types of flowers have been arranged in chequered patterns so neatly and formally. I take a wander, enjoying the sunshine and the vibrant colours of the plants. I soak it all in, if I am truly going to set sail off the island soon and have nothing but endless ocean to look at.   
I can’t imagine what story Koyle will spin to persuade my fiancé to let me leave Mereland.   
Dear me, what have I agreed to?  
I’m aware of my heart racing, but I’ve hardly exerted myself around the gardens. My nerves are spiking again. But this could be my only chance of adventure, before I am bound to Zalem in matrimony.   
I’ve devoured so many books about sailing, heroes fighting pirates and prevailing against monsters of the deep. As much as I detest the thought, Koyle Culver is a living, breathing hero of our time, braving The Grey for his Empire.   
I could write my own story of my time at sea. That would make the trip worthwhile.   
My fingertips glide along the weathered stone balustrade, down towards the ornamental pond. I take a seat on the rocky edge, watching the large orange fish swim and sunbathe without a care in the world.   
Cassie sits by me enjoying the sunshine as well. I start to play with her silky black hair, she allows me to remove it from a tidy bun and plait it across her left shoulder. I’ll miss her almost constant company when I travel. Even if we don’t talk much and when we do it is as mundane as the weather or what clothes I should wear, Cass has been my constant companion.   
No one else has bothered to be my friend, not until today, anyway. But even then, Koyle only wanted to know what to call me, I wouldn’t say that we were friends. He is a stranger, who was probably practically still a child as well when he spotted me in the ocean.   
“Are you starting to get hungry?” Cassie asks.   
“A bit,” I nod, plunging my hand into the cool pond. The ripples I make multiply across the surface of the water. I can’t even remember what sailing is like.   
And what did Koyle even mean when he said that he would teach me how to defend myself? Is he expecting us to find a ton of monsters at sea?  
I’m beyond worried. 

We stroll back through the gardens and I count all the bright green lizards along the way. They think that they are sneaky by staying absolutely still, but I find sixteen in total on the crumbling path back towards the terracotta roofed manor.   
I half expect Koyle to still be inside, tormenting Zalem. But when I reach the door the manor is still and quiet.   
“Shall I see if there is some left over cake, Lady?” Cassie suggests.   
I nod rapidly, twirling across the ventilated hallway, kicking off my sandals to let the soles of my feet kiss the cool ceramic tiles.   
“Did you have a nice walk, Little Fox?” Zalem steps out from his personal office, catching me in his arms whilst I’m in mid pivot.   
“I did,” I say.  
He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “I’m afraid I have some grave news.”   
“What is it?”   
“My Commander in Yala has passed away and I must go there to select a new one,” he says openly.   
“That is very grave, indeed,” I utter. Even thought I’ve never met the Commander and only ever visited Yala city twice, I still understand what a great loss he will be to my fiancés military.   
“I think that I will be there for the rest of the season. I thought about bringing you with me…”  
“But?”   
Zalem’s fingers fall from my chin and he glances behind me momentarily. “Koyle Culver offered to take you Salvaging. He seems to think that it will be good luck to have someone so dear to me on board the vessel that I am going to loan him.”   
I bite my bottom lip, concealing my excitement and nerves. “Aren’t you worried about my safety at sea?”   
“I am, Little Fox,” he admits, with a weary sigh, “But I cannot shelter you forever. Especially from your night terrors.”   
“They are just silly dreams,” I down play it.   
“Did you know, Koyle has slain a sea serpent?” Zalem informs me, “And he and his brother have sunk at least a dozen pirate ships. That’s impressive for their youth.”   
“Really?” I pretend to be fascinated. I’ve known Zalem long enough to be aware that he cannot resist my wide eyed adoration, and if there is something I want, it is best to make it seem as though it was his idea in the first place. Serving as a soldier under Zalem for years, Koyle must have learnt this too. “What do you think is best?” I ask.  
“I think, believe it or not, you will be safer with the Culver boy. Yala is rather unruly from the reports that I have read. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you in the city,” he explains, “And I know that he might not seem it, but Koyle has a good heart. I would trust that kid with my life.”   
“It is settled, then,” I say, nodding dutifully.   
“Good,” Zalem takes my hand and lowers his voice. “I will be setting off tomorrow. Koyle said that he would need a day or two to set up the ship. Would you mind if I visited you tonight, Little Fox?”   
“Not at all,” I agree.   
He kisses my hand, his beard tickling my skin. “Enjoy the cake, its rosewater flavoured.”   
“My favourite,” I say with a smile.


	5. The Loan

By the time that Koyle Culver comes to retrieve me from Zalem’s manor, I’m restless. After being confined to the same walls and rooms for so many years, I am more than eager for an adventure.   
I thought that Cassie had been handling the news very well for the past forty-eight hours. She had helped me pack clothes for all occasions and weather at sea. She had even taught me how to line my eyes with kohl with her special, delicate technique. But as I take my exit through the front door and wave farewell, Cassie begins to bawl.   
I’ve never seen her cry before. It almost sets me off and I have to swallow down the lump that is forming in my throat.   
“I’ll bring you back the best treasure, Cass,” I promise.  
“Just bring yourself home in one piece, sweet child,” she sobs.   
Koyle takes my bag from me, slinging it over his broad shoulder. I didn’t notice it before, but in the daylight he looks much stockier than I remember. Especially now that he has shed all of his layers, the Salvager is pure muscle. It is amazing that he can swagger as he walks at all.  
“Where’d the hubby go?” he asks casually, leading the way down the stone paved road.   
“We’re not married yet,” I point out with an impatient frown. “Zalem has gone to Yala, but surely you knew that?”   
“Er, right, yeah,” Koyle falters his words, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw.   
I watch him closely, puzzling for a moment. Again, I had not paid attention to the mark along his jaw and down his neck, a deep scar where his facial hair evades growth.   
“Did Yala’s Commander really pass away, or did you fake a whole bunch of reports?” I ask, narrowing my gaze, “Because that would be a transgression against the country.”  
“What do you care?” he scoffs, “It got you out of that manor for a change.”   
My jaw practically drops.   
“You’re not even from Mereland,” he shrugs.   
“Zalem trusts you,” I say with exasperation.   
“I know, I’m only winding you up,” Koyle begins to chuckle. “It was just a serendipitous opportunity that I took advantage of. I’m frankly offended that you think that I somehow forged a bunch of letters and made them seem like they had come all the way from Yala.”   
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” I say, folding my arms and flicking my chin high into the air. “I think I regret this decision already.”   
He laughs again, deep and rolling. Soon he takes a left turn, leading me down towards the southern shores of the island. The view is spectacular. I always forget how close Zalem’s manor is to the coast, the walk down is just very steep and the climb back up is even more exhausting. But I won’t be coming back for a fair while.   
“So you didn’t decide to bring your harp?” Koyle says over his shoulder.   
“Don’t be daft.”   
“But I already got my crew excited about hearing you play,” he glances back again, flashing me a mischievous grin.   
“You should have thought about that when you were preparing the ship,” I point out.   
“Must have slipped my mind…” he goes on, “I think they’re going to love you.”   
“Who? Your crew?” I wonder, “Please say they aren’t as annoying as you are.”   
Koyle takes an over dramatic intake of breath, “Oh, you wound me.”   
I follow him around a bend and almost lose my footing on the dusty path. He must hear my sandals skid, because he holds his chunky arm out before I can even yelp with surprise. I cling tightly to his arm, and his linen sleeve rips loudly at the shoulder seam.   
“Damn, this shirt keeps doing that,” he says with a grunt, propping me up right. “Are you okay?”   
“Yes,” I huff. “And here I thought that this was the best shirt that you own.”   
“Not anymore,” Koyle winks.   
Black ink covers the exposed part of his bare upper-arm, and I find myself quite curious to know what is depicted so permanently on his skin.   
“Are you sure you didn’t twist your ankle? Look how far you slid,” he points to the long skid mark that I left in the pale dirt.  
I nod, gathering my balance enough to let go of his arm. “You have a tattoo? I’ve never seen a real one,” I confess.   
“Yeah, I’ve got quite a few,” he says, walking a bit more cautiously down the slope, probably for my benefit. “We could fix you up with your own one, aye? Eli is good at them.”   
I can’t help but snort. “I don’t think so.”  
We take another bend and I watch my step this time, as a gust of sea air hits me full on.   
“Ah, there she is,” Koyle announces with pride. From the cliffs edge, we behold the anchored, full-size, pale sailed frigate as it rocks gently upon the aqua-blue waves.  
“Did Zalem let you name the ship?” I ask with curiosity.   
“I think so?” he replies, “I named her what she is; The Loan.”   
“Of course,” I say with an eye-roll, before we clamber down towards the rowing boat that is waiting for us on the sandy shore. 

“Who the heck is this?” exclaims the woman that is waiting for us beside the scull boat. Her hair is even shorter than mine, clipped close on the sides, but jet black like Koyle’s. She climbs out of her sandy seat and I can’t believe how long and sleek her legs are.   
“This is Jai,” Koy introduces, “Jai, this is Saranya.”   
“Sara,” she shortens her name, not looking impressed. “You failed to mention that Jai was a she.”   
He cracks a big smile. “Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he jokes, heading towards the boat to plonk my bag down on one of the seats.   
Sara offers me her hand and helps me into the boat. Her skin is rough against my own. Her eyes are deep green beneath lengthy lashes; I register as she stares at me, her full lips curling slightly.   
I’m sort of used to people staring by now. My appearance isn’t exactly common in their country. Yet, I feel as though Sara is sizing me up for a fight.   
“By all means, make yourself comfortable, Sara,” Koyle says sarcastically, pushing the boat with both of us in across the white sand with difficulty.   
“I’m saving my energy for the rowing,” she smirks, taking both of the oars in her hands.   
Sweat runs down his face as he strains to get the boat into the water.   
“I can help,” I offer, standing up gingerly.  
“No, no you’re our honorary guest,” he says stubbornly.   
The boat finally slides into the water and Koyle has to leap to join us onboard.   
“I thought you were going to miss and fall on your face,” Sara teases. She begins to row immediately, moving her whole powerful body back and forth to propel us towards The Loan.   
He shakes his fist at her with a sour expression on his strained face.   
She smirks back at us as she works the oars with incredible speed and precision.   
“I like when she rows, it keeps her mouth shut,” Koy says to me, loud enough to mock his crew member.   
“Maybe you should take a turn rowing,” I counter.   
“Hah! Oh, I like her already,” Sara says breathlessly.   
“Well, I wouldn’t have bothered inviting you, if I knew you were going to both gang up on me,” he pouts. I can tell that he doesn’t mean it.   
He doesn’t act like the heroes that I’ve read about; brave and stoic. Koyle seems carefree and sometimes immature. Somehow that calms my nerves more, especially now as we near the frigate.   
This is it. No turning back now.  
“You go first,” Koy says, pulling the rope ladder towards me. “I’ll bring your bag up. Sara can have fun trying to haul the boat up.”   
“Gee thanks, Captain,” she glares.   
I tackle the ladder, giggling as I swing with every passing wave. I’m amazed by the detailing and the varnishing of the ship, plus the size and the quality of the billowing sails. It is no surprise really, if Zalem knew I was going to be on this vessel, he would have chosen one of his finest.   
I expected a bigger crew, but there are only a dozen sailors on deck to greet us. They wait for Koyle to climb up behind me, saluting and waving to their captain before returning to their preparations.   
“Hullo,” a sailor heads over to personally greet me with a handshake. He has a round face and his hair is thinning. He smiles from ear to ear as he pats Koyle on the shoulder. “Is this Jai?”   
“Yup. She may appear cute, but she has a tongue like a viper,” the captain warns playfully.   
I’m torn between being mortified or flattered.   
“I’m Alfie,” introduces the friendly sailor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. We’re all family here, so if you need something to eat, drink or a wash I can get you sorted. I’ve already organised a room for yourself, I do hope that it will suit you.”  
Koy waves Alfie away. “He’s our resident softy, and cook. Way too cheerful all the time, though. Makes me wonder what he’s done wrong in his younger years, to be serving with me as his own personal punishment.”   
“Well, Sento did say that you would probably need me aboard here to make sure that you actually get a few square meals once in a while,” Alfie says with a sweet smile. I’ve only just met him, but he already seems to be a genuinely kind person. He shows it in his soft voice and endearing eyes.   
“Sento hates your cooking, he just didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Koyle quips.   
Alfie laughs it off, relieving his captain of my large bag.   
Behind him, a woman with long chestnut hair is watching us, waiting for her turn to be introduced presumably. Alfie makes way for her and she comes forward elegantly.  
“Hello, sweetie,” she says, her voice gentle and calm. She places her hands lightly on my shoulders and kisses both my cheeks. “Koy has told me so much about you,” concern ripples across her delicate face. “I’m Elisheva.”  
I remember Koy mentioning an Eli onboard. “You’re the tattoo artist?” I ask, taken aback by her effortless affection.   
“I’m the medic,” she says, “But yes, from time to time, my needle skills are used for body art.”   
I silently wonder what Koyle has been telling the caring medic about me.   
“No ailment is too big or small, okay sweetie? I should be bunking in the room next to yours, if you ever need to talk or if you find your sanitary needs lacking,” she offers quietly.   
“Thank you,” I say.   
“I believe Makailen is lurking about somewhere, as well. Don’t be alarmed if he just sneaks up on you,” Koyle informs me. “He does that to everyone.”   
“It’s very nice to meet you all,” I say cordially, before following Alfie to my appointed lodging.


	6. Sara

My room is smaller than I am accustomed to. The furnishings are lacking, the bed is tiny. I’m not sure what I was expecting, really.   
“We’ll be setting off soon,” Alfie notifies me, as he gently places my bag down on the chest at the foot of the stunted bed.   
“What should I do?” I ask.   
He seems confused. “You don’t need to do anything, Miss,” he smiles. “You can just relax.”  
Alfie turns to leave as I begin to unpack, aided by the small amount of light streaming in through the porthole window.   
“I better prepare the supper,” he says enthusiastically, ducking through the doorway.  
I’m not on my own for long, as Sara comes to find me, bowing her head to fit through the small entrance as well.   
“I was hoping that I would get this room,” she says promptly. She stops near my refreshments table, eyeing the jug of water and the bowl of green coconuts.   
“Oh,” I look up at her, feeling a bit guilty. “There is probably enough room for us to share.”   
“I was hoping that you would say that,” Sara says, a toothy grin slashing across her youthful face.   
The ship kicks into motion. Below us the anchor must have been reeled in and above the sails have been released, the wind and the tide carrying us out and away from the shore. As promised, Koyle is taking me away from Mereland, at last.  
I hold on tightly to the open chest, mostly for reassurance. It is a good thing that I was already kneeling on the floor; otherwise I’m sure that I would have fallen over after that large lurch.   
Sara is unfazed. She takes a seat at the table and pulls out an apple from the inner pocket of her grey jacket. “Koy says that you’re the Generals’ pet,” she starts.   
“I’m his fiancé,” I exclaim, showing her the silver band on my finger.   
“That would explain why this ship is so advanced,” Sara says, kicking off her boots and taking a bite of the blushing red apple. She squints at my finger for a second. “You’d have thought that he would have at least studded that with a diamond.”   
“Diamonds should only be worn by the Emperor.”   
“Spoken like a good little lap dog,” she mocks me.   
I feel myself getting hot and frustrated. I put my weight against the chest, eventually standing up and closing the lid of it. At least Sara is distracting me from all of the things that could go wrong with the ship. I hope that Koyle is as efficient and safe at sailing as Zalem led me to believe.   
Sara must be able to tell how flustered I am, as I sit on the edge of the bed and try to calm down.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” she apologises, “I’m not used to people who get easily riled up.”   
It still feels like a personal attack. What did I do to annoy her? She can have the damn room, for all I care. “I don’t get easily riled up,” I say. “Did Koyle say anything else about me?”   
She shrugs. “He said you were pretty, but I can see that with my own eyes,” she says nonchalantly, finishing the rest of her apple. “Oh, and that you play the harp.”   
“How long have you known him?”   
“So many questions,” Sara smirks, “I’ve been part of the Culvers’ crew for almost two years.”   
“And what do you do, exactly?”   
She puts her feet up on the table, tilting her head as if I’ve asked a stupid question. “Unofficially, I’m the First Mate of this ship,” she answers anyway, “I go into battle with Koy, I keep him alive, so I s’pose that makes me quite important.”   
“I would have thought that Elisheva keeps you all alive,” I point out.  
“Yeah, but she isn’t exactly leadership material.”   
“Why not?” I puzzle.  
“I wouldn’t think that she would like the attention. I’ve never heard her raise her voice above a sultry whisper. She keeps to herself, y’know?” Sara explains.   
“Whereas, you like to tease and make assumptions about people you’ve just met?” I quip. I barely think about my words as they spill out, but I can’t help it.   
“I’ll take that as a hint, that you want me to leave?” Sara raises a dark eyebrow and her feet slide off the table.   
“I’m tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”   
“I can imagine,” she says, her tone sounding sincere, “It’s not every day that you set sail to pass through The Grey.”


	7. Training

I slept surprisingly well that night, after eating the meal that Alfie had prepared. I must have been really tired, especially after the trek down the hills to get to the shore. Upon waking, it takes me a while to register where I am and why I’m not in my own bed.   
I’m at sea, for a start.   
The sound of rushing water, lapping against the hull of the ship becomes soothingly rhythmic. It was certainly different to waking up to the sound of birdsong, but I could get used to it.   
I was about to slip back into dream land, but someone knocks on my door.   
“Wait, I’m not up yet,” I call out. I launch myself out of the cramped bed, heading for my chest of clothes. It dawns on me that I don’t have Cassie anymore to help me choose what to wear.   
“Alright,” Koyle shouts through the door. I think he’s chuckling as well. “I’ll just leave your breakfast out here…”  
“I’m coming!” I insist, wrestling into a pale green, linen skirt with slits at the edges for ease of movement. I put on a white vest and pull open the door.   
Koyle is in a half bend to put a tray of food on the wooden floor. He straightens up quickly, and glances at my wild and messy hair.   
I begin to comb it down into place with my fingers.   
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I grabbed a bit of everything from the stove. Toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, pineapple as well, err, a cup of milk,” he fusses.   
I squint at him, rubbing away the crust from my eyes. The captain seems odd, unusually nervous for a man who swaggers and sweet talks courtiers and generals.   
“Thank you,” I say, taking the tray from him. “This is unusually kind of you,” I add, jokingly.  
“You’re going to need a big breakfast,” he informs, folding his arms across his broad chest, “Before your training begins.”   
He seems to have enough respect to not just barge into my room like Sara did, even though this is technically his ship. I head to my table to eat, beckoning Koyle to take a seat if he wants.   
He’s a bit hesitant. His eyes dart around the enclosed space as if he is looking for booby-traps. “We’re making good distance,” Koy says, trying to strike up a cordial conversation, I think.   
“That’s a point, where are we even going?” I wonder, picking up my cutlery.   
“As far as we possibly can,” he replies.   
“In what, a month or so until I need to be back for my wedding?”   
“I guess,” he chuckles, scratching his stubbly chin. “If this journey goes well, I would like to take The Loan even further next time. Bring enough resources to sail for a whole year – that would be ideal.”   
I scoop egg up onto my toast. It’s surprisingly still quite warm. I eat as quickly as I can, feeling a bit self-conscious with Koy watching me.   
“Do you not miss the land when you’re gone?” I ask curiously.   
“Not really. It can get a bit dull and predictable. Out here, you never know what you will come across,” he says, his dark eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.   
“And that is why I need training, to fight off pirates?”   
“Sure,” he winks.   
The scepticism must show on my face. I can’t imagine wielding a weapon like Zalem does, let alone thrusting it into someone. I finish off the cup of milk and stretch my limbs, ready for the training.   
“The food is always best on the first week, when all the perishables need eating up. It won’t be long until you’re sick to death of stale bread, limes and watery ale,” Koyle says, getting up to show me the way to the deck. To begin training. 

“What is that?” I ask, watching Koyle attach a hefty metal ring to his belt.  
“A chakram,” he replies, checking that we have enough space on the main deck.   
“I’ve never seen one before,” I admit.   
“Not many people have. They sort of went out of fashion a long time ago when crossbows and blunderbusses replaced them,” Koyle explains. “I met a fine gentleman who showed me the basics and I just ran with it from there. However, we’ll start with the straight and trusty blade today, if you don’t mind, Jai?”   
“That sounds good,” I nod, bustling with pride at the sound of my new name.   
He offers me a plain looking sword, it is surprisingly lighter than I expect and he shows me how to hold it correctly.   
“Don’t squeeze it too tightly until your knuckles go white. You’re not trying to strangle it. Save that for your enemies,” Koy advises.   
I can’t help but laugh, “Okay, I got it.”   
Then he shows me the footwork. It isn’t too dissimilar to ballroom dancing, except the aim is to stab my partner.  
“You’re picking this up really quickly,” the captain says, sounding surprised. “Move a bit faster if you can.”   
I swap between the offensive and defensive stances that I have just learnt, brandishing the metal blade.   
“Austa swords are fairly long and sharp on both edges, which makes them good for back and forth slashing,” he explains, drawing his own.   
It isn’t quite as ornate or shiny as Zalem’s, but it is closely the same design. The guard of it shaped like a black half moon towards the blade to protect his hand. I’ve read enough textbooks about weaponry to at least understand the parts of swords and how they are crafted.   
“They are really good for cavalry combat as well,” Koyle continues, slicing the air with precision.   
“I don’t expect we will be encountering many horses out here,” I say, memorising the way that he turns his arm and twists his wrist to keep his sword moving smoothly.   
“You never know,” he winks.   
I’m aware of the crew watching us at the same time as doing their daily tasks. I lose track of the time, as I do when I play the harp. It is almost the same, learning the patterns and the rhythms until I am performing the actions without much thought at all.   
I’m mostly aware of how hot and sweaty I am getting, even in the shade of the mainsail and with the cool sea breeze against my skin. I don’t usually exert myself this much, reading books and composing music. Even my walks around the botanical gardens are gentle. Koy was right about me needing a big breakfast.   
“Should we take a break?” Koy offers, squinting up at the bright, yet cloudy sky.   
I shake my head, eager to continue. “I want to learn how to parry, like they do in fantasy novels,” I say.   
He chuckles lightly, “Oh, alright then.” 

We keep practicing until even Koyle appears exhausted.   
“Take a seat,” he offers, gesturing to a nearby wooden crate. “I just need to check the helm, then, I can show you where we cool off.”  
I nod, too out of breath for words. I collapse onto the crate, letting the borrowed sword rest across my lap.   
He somehow still manages to swagger along the deck, checking on his crew members as he goes.   
“You fight well,” a male voice says behind me.   
I swivel around on the crate, bewildered. Despite the heat, the man is completely covered by a dark blue cloak. I can barely see his face beneath his hood. It takes me a moment to remember what Koy said yesterday about there being a missing member of his closest associates.   
“You must be Makailen?” I utter, my voice bone dry from the training.   
“Must I?” he muses. His voice is deep, smooth and better-spoken than I expect.   
I smile, even though his mysterious presence is making me a bit nervous.   
“I’ve never actually handled a weapon before, until today,” I say, patting the flat of the blade resting on my lap.  
Makailen raises his chin a little, but I still can’t see his shadowed eyes. “You’re misleadingly quick and small enough to be underestimated in a fight. Those will be your strengths,” he says, extending a hand to point at the sword I have. “I suggest a smaller weapon will suit you better. If His Lordship can manage a moment away from you, I can give you some lessons.”  
I figure he is mocking Koyle and I chuckle lightly. “What sort of lessons?”  
“The art of subterfuge, only being seen and heard when you want to be, striking when the target least expects it,” he says plainly, joylessly. I can tell that he is deadly serious.   
I can’t help but stare up into the unending darkness within his hood, as if it could swallow me up like one of my nightmares. That’s what Makailen was; a nightmare in human form. Yet, for some reason, I am actually considering his offer…  
“Hah-hah,” Koy returns swiftly. He puts a hand on Makailen’s dark shoulder, “So you’ve finally come out to play, Makail?”   
It is almost comical how much they contrast each other. Wrapped in darkness, Makailen is tall and slender. He makes the captain look even stockier, but also like a ray of sunshine with his generous laughter and easy smiles.   
“He’s offered me some lessons,” I say.   
Koyle’s eyebrows begin to travel up into his mess of a fringe. “You’re kidding?” he checks, his hand sliding off Makailen’s shoulder.  
I’m not sure if I was imagining it, but the man seemed to be tensing under his cloak, as if he was silently enduring the physical contact. “She’s very quick,” he stands by his words.   
“You’ve never offered to teach anyone,” Koy begins to say, clearly exasperated, “Not even me!”   
“That’s because you’re built like a gorilla,” Makailen drawls. “And you snore like one too.”   
“How would you – ” Koy pouts, “What are you laughing at?”   
I cover my mouth, unable to contain my roar of laughter. “He’s not wrong,” I emit.   
“Jai is light-footed, like a cat,” Makailen continues dryly, “Maybe she will have nine lives, as well.”   
I feel as though the man knows more about me than he is letting on. Has he always been in the shadows, watching me? Or am I that easy to read? Either way, I would like to learn more about Makailen, just so that we will be on equal and fair terms.   
“Yeah-yeah, why don’t you just crawl back to your web, you spindly little spider,” Koy scoffs, shoeing him away.   
Makailen snorts back. I think he is genuinely amused, but he’s good at hiding it. “Very well, Your Lordship,” he says with a mocking bow.   
Koy smiles sardonically, watching him turn and pad lightly across the deck, his cloak billowing behind him.   
I honestly can’t tell if they are rivals or best of friends, maybe both? I’ve barely had enough experience with people outside of court. Zalem is intimidating enough to scare most people away, just by his ranking, so we barely ever have visitors. I hadn’t expected to be welcomed so warmly by the crew of The Loan. I’ve always felt like no one of importance; not knowing where I’ve come from or how I would fit in.   
Even if I marry Zalem, I’ll still be no one of importance to anyone. He really has no need to. He could marry someone noble or no one at all. His first wife already gave him a son to succeed him. What was I thinking?  
“Jai?” Koy says, offering his hand out to me, “Where did you go?”  
“Hmm?”  
“You had this blank stare going for a while,” he points out, “Were you considering Makail’s offer?”  
“I think so,” I nod. “I’m not sure what I will need those sorts of skills for as a married woman.”   
I can’t help but think that I am lying to myself. I would be a terrible wife. I take his hot hand and let him pull me up from the crate.   
“You never know,” he shrugs, “Let’s go hit the shower.”


	8. Cooling Off

After putting our weapons away, I follow Koyle below deck, passing crew members on their way to the mess deck for dinner.   
“I’m surprised by how informal everyone is,” I mention, as I squeeze beside him.   
“How do you mean?”   
“Well, none of Zalem’s army would joke or tease him, but you seem to encourage it,” I elaborate.   
“Oh right,” he says absentmindedly, “I suppose I’m asking them to fight and risk their lives to be here – they’re not even doing it for their country or the Emperor. I can allow the ridicule. Actually, I’d much prefer it, if I screw up, I rather I was told, you know? Misinformation can learn to mutiny over night.”   
“You’ve been sailing for a while, have you ever had a mutiny?”   
“Only once,” he smiles grimly as he remembers, “Me and Sento had to jump ship pretty quickly. I’ve never swam so hard in my life.”   
I’m genuinely curious, but I don’t want to make Koyle relive the experience any further. We head down an even narrower passage, reaching a door that has a few steps up to it.   
He pushes open the wooden door, showing me inside. It is more or less an outhouse built into the hull of the ship.   
I puzzle for a moment, “I didn’t expect the ship to have a lavatory.”   
“We’re not complete savages,” he winks, showing me past the hole for relieving ones’ self.   
There is a wooden divider between the lavatory and an even smaller hole in the floor. I’m a bit embarrassed. In public places at court, the gents’ and the ladies’ latrines are usually separated with more than just a screen.   
“When you pull this chain, water comes out from this spout, see? It should be quite warm from the sun, if Sara hasn’t used it all up,” Koy shows me.  
“I see. We have taps in the manor that use the same solar power to heat up the water,” I say.  
Without warning, he pulls his shirt off over his head and begins to unbuckle his belt.   
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” I cry, turning away swiftly. Now I’m completely mortified.   
“Sorry, did you want to wash first?” he asks.   
“No, I just don’t want to witness your bare buttocks in my face,” I practically shriek.   
“Some people would pay good money for that service,” Koy jokes, “But I can see what you’re getting at.”   
“I’ll be outside. I don’t want to see you again until you’re fully clothed,” I demand, covering my eyes as I feel my way out of the room.   
He’s laughing as I leave. “Prude,” I hear him tease.   
I wait in the narrow passage, beginning to feel lethargic from the exercise. The shower will wake me up a bit. At least I will sleep well again. 

After another one of Alfie’s feasts, Koyle and I part ways for the night. I find my way back to my lodgings, to find Sara has beaten me to it. She wasn’t joking about sharing the room, I guess.   
She’s sat at the modest dining table, sipping from a tankard.   
“What time do you call this, young lady?” she says, grinning playfully.   
“After dinner time?” I stumble into the room, rubbing my aching neck.   
Sara tops up her tankard from her own jug. “Drink?” she offers, reaching for another cup.  
“What is it?”   
“Ale. None of that watery rubbish,” she says, pouring some brown coloured liquid out for me to try.   
I take a sip, the stuff is dry and at room temperature. “It is kind of bitter,” I say.   
“Indeed,” she straightens up in her seat, hesitating for a moment. “I feel like I might have given you a bad first impression. Could we start over?”   
“If you like.”   
“Thank you,” Sara says, looking relieved. She holds out the jug to fill my cup up fully. “I want to know more about you, Jai.”  
“There isn’t much to tell,” I admit, taking a seat at the table to drink with her.  
“Well, something compelled you to come here, didn’t it? What island did you come from?” she asks, pointing to my damp hair.  
“I don’t remember. All I know is that I woke up on Zalem’s ship.”   
“Were you very young?”   
I shrug, taking a sip of ale. “People guessed that I was about twelve, I could be younger or older than that, though. I was the only survivor found on the wreck.”   
“So let me get this straight, the General took you in as a child, and now has decided to marry you?” Sara asks slowly, concern flicking in her expression.   
“I’ve had nowhere else to go. Until now, I suppose.”   
“It’s lucky Koyle found you again, when he did,” she says with intensity. “I think you’re still too young to be tied to one man.”   
I secretly agree. “I’m surprised Koyle never forgot about the day he saw me,” I utter, “It was so long ago.”   
“Really? I can tell that you’ve been his muse ever since that day. It is why he continues to sail into the unknown, hoping to spot more survivors from far away lands,” Sara explains, refilling her tankard.   
“I never thought that I was significant to anyone, ever,” I confess, feeling feather-light from the alcohol.   
“Oh darling, you just haven’t me the right people,” she says, reaching out across the table to take my hand. “If you don’t love Zalem, you shouldn’t marry him.”   
“I do love him…”  
“But not in that way,” she tells me, stroking my knuckles with her thumb.   
“I don’t know any other way,” I say, staring sadly into my ale. Sara is watching me like a hawk again, her emerald eyes roving across my face.   
“I’m talking about lust – passion – intense desire for the physical contact of another’s body. I’ve never met the General, but does he invoke that sort of emotion in you?”   
I shake my head, feeling my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “I’ve only read poems and fairytales with that sort of language. It is hardly realistic or logical. Zalem offers me an easy life, a comfortable one. Lust is just a temporary thing,” I argue, but I can feel myself shrinking. Maybe I have been groomed to be Zalem’s pet?  
“Have you been with him yet?”  
“What?” I look up from my drink.  
“Have you slept with Zalem, or are you waiting for marriage?” she asks, rolling her eyes. She’s smiling with amusement, as if we have been friends for years and I am desperately in need of her advice.  
“Y-yes,” I stutter, “For a few years. He said if I wanted to stay in the manor, I would have to be his mistress. And now his wife.”  
“A girl’s got to eat,” she shrugs, retracting her hand from mine.   
I had expected her to be judgmental and disgusted for essentially selling my body. “I offered to do chores, to work as a servant. But he would always keep asking for me,” I say, something I have never told anyone.   
Sara sighs, scratching the side of her head where her hair is short. “Men are like that. Even when we say ‘no’, they often hear ‘yes’. We’re just toys to them. I’m glad that you’re learning how to fight; always handy to keep away unwanted attention.”   
“Yes,” I murmur, finishing my ale.   
“Damn, the jug is empty,” Sara curses. “Shall I get us more?”   
I nod slowly. Anything, anything to rid me of the memories of Zalem’s unwanted advances. I’d grown to just live with it, became accustomed to the loveless sex. Telling myself that I could endure it, without any thought of how damaging it was to my mental state.


	9. Makailen

Unsurprisingly, I wake up with a dull headache. I usually get them when I’ve drank far too much wine at dinner. The ale was just as dangerously deceptive.   
I had a vague memory of spilling a lot of personal memories to Saranya. I may have started crying after the fifth glass, just as I had burst into tears in front of Koyle when he had come to me in the study room. But instead of a reaction of panic, Sara had held me whilst I wept on her shoulder. I don’t remember much of the night, besides that.   
I’m up later than before, and wonder if Koyle had tried to knock on the door and bring me breakfast again. I get dressed, wearing the same skirt as yesterday but with a different vest, a blue one.   
I open the door and I’m not wrong, as a tray of food awaits me on the floor. A pile of spiced, fried mushrooms welcome me with a cup of watermelon juice. There is a note left next to the plate –

I’ll see you on deck,  
K.

I squint at it for a while. His handwriting is as messy as his appearance.   
I eat, my stomach settling a bit, and take a brief visit to the ‘bathroom’ around the corner from my cabin.   
I make it to the deck, my limbs feeling heavy from yesterdays training. I put my arm across my forehead, not expecting the daylight to be so bright. It is definitely warmer in the direct sunlight, but there is still a rush of wind continuingly ruffling my hair and billowing my skirt. It’s quite blissful.   
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Koyle calls down from the upper deck. He waves with one hand and the other is on the wheel of his ship.   
I head over to join him, climbing the staircase up to the helm. Makailen is with the captain, albeit standing off to one side with his hood still raised. I’m not quite sure how the wind doesn’t blow it down.   
“Sorry,” I cringe, “I stayed up a bit late.”   
“Saranya said as much,” Koyle says with amusement.   
I look to him, appearing so calm and in control of our journey. He’s put kohl around his eyes today, thick smudges of it on his upper and lower eyelids. Unlike me, it suits his dark complexion and compliments his obsidian eyes.   
“Makail wastes no time in stealing my fun, so you’ll be training with him today, if you like,” the captain says, staring out at the watery horizon ahead of us.   
“Oh, really? I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Makailen,” I fret.   
“It’s quite all right, Jai,” his hood dips in a welcoming sort of nod. “It is better that we start later and carry on practicing into the night.”  
“Don’t have her up too late,” Koy advises, “We’re not all freaks like you who don’t need any sleep.”   
“I sleep,” Makailen says defensively, taking a step towards the stairs. “You’re just too self-centred to notice my patterns.”   
“Have fun,” the captain waves us off, smiling sardonically.   
My new trainer gives him the middle finger without looking back. 

Makailen takes me to what I’m pretty sure is the cargo hold. There is no crew around to spectate. He more or less blends into the dimly lit hold in his dark attire.   
He looms over me, pressing a small tool into my hand. I look down, realising it is a dagger.   
“The beauty of this weapon is that it has many uses,” he begins. He holds a dagger as well, flipping it into different stances. “You can wield it like a knife, you can punch it through flesh, you can slash it across throats, you can throw it.”  
He steps to one side, flicking his arm out. I hear a thunk, before realising he has thrown his dagger into a barrel in front of us.   
I warm my shoulder up and do the same, the point of my dagger piercing the barrel, close to Makail’s.   
“Good,” he says, stepping forwards to retrieve our daggers. “Do you remember that fighting stance, to balance yourself?”   
I bend my knees, spreading my feet far apart as he puts the handle of the dagger back in my palm.   
“Can you get lower?” he asks, crouching down. Yet he still looks animated, as if he could lunge forwards at any moment and indeed slit my throat.   
I copy him, in motion but motionless.   
“If your right side is your strongest side, you want to put your left foot forwards and get ready to push off from the right foot,” he points out. “Koyle and Saranya are good at getting attention and focus in a fight. But it is the smaller, silent ones in the background that are the deadliest.”   
Makailen shows me how to launch my whole body forwards, without falling over and make a ‘clean kill’. “You won’t get hit so much if you remain low, but have fluid footwork so that you can leap away backwards from an attack.”   
I watch and copy him for what could be hours, or the whole day, I’m not quite sure. I’m just so focused on absorbing the knowledge.   
Makail eventually straightens up, holding his dagger at his side. “I think you might have an eidetic memory,” he says.   
“I’ve never heard of that term,” I admit, regaining my breath.   
He relaxes his narrow shoulders. “What colour are Koyle’s eyes?”  
“Dark brown, no more black really,” I reply, slightly confused.   
“Saranya’s?”   
“Green.”  
“Elisheva’s?”   
“Brown.”  
“Mine?” he slows.   
“I haven’t seen your eyes,” I say.   
“How many masts does the ship have?” he goes on.  
“Three.”  
“How many sails?”  
I mentally count from memory, “Eight if you count the small one at the bow of the ship.”   
“Have you ever tried playing chess?” Makailen asks.  
I wonder if it is a trick question. “No, I haven’t.”   
“Koyle has a chess board in his cabin. You should challenge him. I think you could beat him within a matter of a few games once you’ve learnt the rules. That would wipe the smugness off his face,” he says cunningly.   
“That sounds like a good idea,” I chuckle.   
He hums under his hood, but it could be him laughing as well.   
“Let’s practice disarming,” he suggests. 

As promised, the training doesn’t finish until night falls. I make my way to the shower to cool down before bed. When I step out from the narrow room and I’m met by Koyle.   
“I didn’t see you in the mess deck,” he says quickly. “You must be ravenous.”   
“I am a bit. I do have a lovely bowl of coconuts in my room.”   
“And how will you crack them open?”   
I produce the dagger that Makailen has let me keep from my belt, twirling it elegantly with my fingers.  
“Makail has backed up my assumption that you have an incredible memory,” Koy says, pressing his arm up against the wall to casually lean on his right side, “And a special attention to details.”   
“Apparently so,” I say with a smile, rubbing my small grey towel over my head.  
“Let your body rest tomorrow, I’d like to show you how to navigate. If you can memorise maps, then well… You don’t even need me around to sail a ship,” he says.  
I’m flattered. His words bolster my confidence. “Okay.”   
“Anyway,” his arm slides down from the wall and his hands fit into the pockets of his loose trousers, “I have some bread, cheeses, fruit, some wine in my cabin if you’re looking for something more substantial.”   
I take him up on the offer, putting my newly acquired dagger back in its sheath at my side. 

We head back to the main deck and Koyle opens the door to his cabin that’s underneath the helm of the ship. The walls are a welcoming shelter from the wind. I expect there to be chaos and mess inside, but I am mistaken.   
The captain’s cabin is fairly bare – as it would be, for a new ship – the bed is made and what few books he owns are stored on a stumpy bookcase. There are two separate cabinets for liquor and food, a table for dining and one for games.   
“Your bed is bigger than mine,” I jest.   
“You’re not the captain,” he chuckles, gesturing to the food storage. “Help yourself.”  
I nab a banana, a square of cheese and a bread roll, taking a seat at the rectangular table. Koyle watches me, looking amused as usual.   
“So… Makailen?” I ask.   
“Getting on your nerves already?”   
“Quite the opposite, actually. His company is delightful, I just don’t know anything about him,” I elaborate, peeling my banana.   
“No, he doesn’t talk much about his past,” Koy says, rifling through his liquor cabinet for a particular wine. “He comes from a noble family.”   
I’m shocked. “Not what I expected. Which family?”   
Koy joins me at the table, bottle and wine glasses in hand. He scrunches his face up for a moment, probably trying to remember Makailen’s family name. He sort of shrugs as he sits down, “I’m not sure, they were murdered, by a rival house, I think.”   
“What?” a gape, almost dropping my fruit.   
“I wouldn’t bring it up with him, all right? It’s a bad subject. He lost his younger sister and brother. When we first met, he was in a really bad way,” he says, frowning at the thought. “I helped Makail get revenge on the man who plotted the demise of his whole family, but I had to stop him from taking the innocent lives of the rest of the opposing family. That would make him just as monstrous, you see? In return, Makail has been, well, my bodyguard ever since.”  
“Does he follow you everywhere?”   
Koyle shrugs again, “Hard to tell.” He begins to pour ruby wine out for us both.   
“I never heard of such a massacre happening,” I say, feeling terrible for Makailen.   
“Ah, well, the Emperor picks favourites and likes to cover up a lot of crimes in Austa. It’s probably what keeps Zalem eternally busy; keeping the streets and the records clean.”   
I don’t hesitate to reach for my glass of wine, needing a big gulp after hearing that story. “I assumed he was an assassin, from what he has been teaching me,” I say.  
“He likes to think so,” Koyle says, sounding and looking a bit regretful. As if he is chiding himself for saying too much about his friend. “But he has never actually taken a contract for money before.”   
“And have you seen what he looks like?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.   
“Oh, hideous,” he begins to smirk, “Truly repulsive.”   
“You would poke fun,” I accuse, and break my bread in half.   
“You know me too well…” Koyle trails off, necking back his wine. He refills his glass and allows the bottle to hover over mine.   
I nod for a refill, as I finish the last of my food. “What about you?”   
“Me?”   
“Haven’t you got some interesting tale to tell?” I ask, “Zalem said that you bested a sea serpent.”   
“Oh,” Koy scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “It wasn’t a very big one. And I had Sara, Sento and Makail there to keep it busy.”  
“How unusually modest of you, captain,” I tease, taking a sip of red wine.   
“Apparently krakens are worse,” he says, scratching his ear, “Much worse. And giant crabs, but I’ve never encountered those.”  
“Are they real?”   
“I’ve met people who claim to have seen all sorts, but they could just be insane,” Koy rationalises.  
“What else?” I lean against the table, eager to hear more. “Are mermaids real?”   
He looks amused and swirls the wine around in his glass. “I thought you were one, when I first spotted you in the water.”  
“Maybe I am,” I raise my eyebrows.   
He glances under the table. “I don’t see a tail.”   
I laugh, feeling jolly from the wine. I feel confident enough to admit to Koyle about my dreams. “I often have nightmares about drowning, or monsters pulling me down underwater. I think my traumatic experience will always haunt me.”   
“Perhaps the ship you arrived here on was attacked,” he utters, “There is so much out there in the deep, so much that is still unknown.”


	10. Crashing Waves

I find myself in a pile of pillows, sandwiched between a cosy mattress and a warm duvet. I’m so comfy, I expect to open my eyes and be back at the manor. My lord! What if it has all been a dream, and I never left Austa at all?   
I readjust my thoughts, trying to force myself to be more awake. I can definitely feel the swaying of a ship beneath me. I’m just in someone else’s bed.   
I sit up, looking around in horror at the inside of Koyle’s cabin.  
I must have dozed off at the table – or drank too much again – what had we even been talking about? And how did I end up in his bed?  
I curse inwardly, thankfully spotting Koyle fast asleep on the floor at the foot of the bed. That has to prove something, doesn’t it?   
I begin to remember bits, such as talking about mermaids and Makailen. All this drinking is ruining my eidetic memory.   
He has a blanket around him and a pillow under his head. He really does snore loudly; it is incredible that I slept through that noise at all. I peer a little further over the bottom of the bed, his thick black hair splayed around his pillow. He still has kohl smudged around his eyes. The captain looks so peaceful, I wonder what he is dreaming about…  
Then I catch myself. Catch myself watching Koyle Culver sleeping, and I feel rather ashamed. I’ve never watched Zalem slumber, my fiancé never sticks around long enough in the mornings, almost as if I am an inconvenience to be around.   
I must have got to this bed somehow, either offered to me whilst I was practically passed out drunk, or – or Koyle carried me over and tucked me in. What an interesting thought.   
“Hhheyyy,” the captain murmurs sleepily, opening one eye.   
Oh no! I straighten back up in the middle of his four poster bed, pretending that I wasn’t staring. “Nothing happened, did it?” I check immediately.   
He laughs but it is dry and croaky from all the snoring, no doubt.   
“Why are you laughing?” I worry, grabbing a pillow to hide behind it.   
“You were practically throwing yourself on me.”   
“You’re lying,” I refuse to believe it.   
“Damn. How can you always tell?” he says, propping his body up on his elbows.  
I throw the pillow I’m clutching down on top of him.   
I hear a muffled, “Ow,” and more lazy laughter. “Besides, you would never forget a night with The Captain.”   
“You are disgusting,” I shriek, rolling out of his big bed. “I hope for your sake that you have pants on.”   
“Yeah-yeah, I know my bare ass offends you, Princess.”   
I have my hand close to the hilt of my dagger as I lunge across the large rug, escaping the cabin once and for all. 

I meet up with Makailen again for day two of my training. He is polite as always, encouraging but not intrusive. Knowing what I know now about him, a lone noble-born, orphaned just as I am. We’re more alike than I first realised, and I believe that is why we get along so well. Koyle trusted me with personal information about Makail, and I feel honoured by it. I think this might be how friendship feels, but I’m not certain.   
“You seem distracted today,” he says gently.   
“I’m a bit tired. I slept badly,” I reply, “and I just remembered that Koyle offered to teach me how to navigate.”   
“We should stop for lunch soon. You may go to the captain and subject yourself to that for the rest of the day, if you like?” Makail suggests.   
“Sounds more sensible. I don’t want to slip up because I’m not concentrating and cut you by accident,” I say light-heartedly.   
“That won’t happen,” he says coolly, as if he is setting me a challenge.   
I can’t help but smile. I sheath my dagger and make a move for the exit of the cargo hold. “I’ll see you in a bit, Makailen,” I bid.   
“Goodbye, Jai,” he waves.

I make my way to the mess deck and it isn’t very hard to spot Captain Koyle. He’s dining with Sara on one of the benches. I grab a bowl from the end of the line and wait to get served a cold bean salad with the rest of the crew.  
“Hey, I’m surprised Makail let you out for food,” Koyle jokes, scooting over to make room for me.   
“You never told me Jai was hiding out with that sneak,” Sara exclaims. She thins her eyes with suspicion.  
I’ve already scooped beans and rice into my mouth, too busy chewing to reply.   
“Captain!” a sailor hurries to our table, looking panic stricken. “We’ve got company.”   
“Well, about bloody time,” Koy grins, but his tone still sounds serious. He finishes the dregs of his hot drink and swings off the bench.   
“What’s going on?” I ask, “Are we being attacked?”  
“Only if they can catch us,” he says with an even bigger grin, before leaving the mess deck.  
Sara waits for me, beckoning for me to follow and witness the action. I pick my bowl up, eating as we walk. I’m not sure if it is safe to go up onto the main deck, but Sara seems unshaken. Once again the sun is blinding as I search the watery horizon for another ship. A pirate ship, perhaps, but I don’t see anything but waves.   
“You might want to hold onto something,” Sara says, leaning up against the mainmast.   
I can see Koyle is already at the wheel of The Loan, a grin still stretching across his face.   
“I don’t see – ” I begin, but almost drop my bowl of beans.   
Sara lunges out to catch my arm and stops me from sliding across the deck. The whole ship is banking on its portside, making a sharp turn to change our course. I can only assume that we collide with a large wave, as the whole deck lurches up and down. Salt water sprays across my face. I give up on holding onto my bowl and clutch tightly to Sara instead. She holds me upright, wrapping a muscular arm around me as more sea water splashes over us.   
“He’s mad!” I cry over the crashing and the rolling.   
Sara laughs. “You just wait until we get to The Grey.”   
The deck starts to level out again. Her arm comes down to hold onto my hand instead. I’m glad, just in case Koyle decides to do something crazy with The Loan again.   
“Was that necessary?” I grumble.  
“Are you all right, dear?” Elisheva hurries across the soaking deck to check on me.   
I nod, wringing water out of my skirt.   
“We shall see if the ones on our tail want to go through that rough patch as well,” Sara explains.   
“Why? We haven’t even found anything valuable for them to take,” I say.   
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she coos, looking down at me and giving my hand a squeeze.   
“I’ll get you a towel, sweetie,” Elisheva offers, turning on her dainty heel. 

After drying off and changing my clothes, I remain warm and safe in Koyle’s cabin as he goes over a pile of maps with me. He shows me the path that we are on, right towards the vicious storm known to all as The Grey.   
He seems a bit worn out, after that exhilarating manoeuvre that he pulled earlier to get us away from the pirates.   
“This is all that I have plotted,” he says tiredly, and points at the bare part of his most used map. “Everything beyond this point, past The Grey is still uncharted.”   
“So we want to fill in the gaps?”   
“Aye,” Koyle nods, looking up from the table. “As we left Mereland from the south, the way back will be north. We can tell east from west by where the sun rises and falls. But beyond that, when we are so far out to sea and there is no land to speak of, we use the constellations.”   
“Stars as navigation?” I check.   
“Yup. It will be dark soon, so we can practice. With your brilliant memory, you can easily remember the star formations,” he says, his voice sounding scratchy. He leaves the table for a moment to find a jug of water. Koy comes back with a metal device in his hand as well, and for a moment I think it is another one of his odd weapons.   
“This will help,” he smiles.  
“What is it?” I take the triangular looking item from him.  
“A sextant,” he shows me the eye piece and the curve of metal underneath that has numbers etched into it. “You can measure the horizon with a celestial constellation and navigate the distance. But it can be hard to remember the formations. They change over the seasons. I think you’ll be able to handle it though, Jai.”  
I hum, partly thinning my eyes, “Seems like you’re trying to get me to do your job for you.”  
“True,” he shrugs, “Sento was always better at it than I.”   
“You’re instilling so much confidence in me,” I tease.   
He offers me a cup of water and finishes his own. “Come on, let’s head out and look for some stars,” he encourages.


	11. Doubts

It is much colder out on the deck without the sun shining overhead. The moon is almost full and the stars are indeed on display. I’ve never in my life seen a sky so blue and green. It is breathtaking. I can’t believe I’ve been in my room – and the captain’s cabin – drinking and missing this view every night.   
“Dusk is a good time for us to do this,” Koyle says, gesturing for me to lift the sextant up to my face.  
I’d lost myself for a moment, forgetting that I was standing on the bow of the ship. We are travelling towards the horizon that never gets any closer, an ocean without end. We are constantly chasing a limitless sky.   
“Do you see something that looks like a constellation to you?” he asks. The captain stands very close, pointing up at the shimmering stars.   
I tilt my face up, examining the different shapes and sizes, the patterns they formed, some seemed further away than others. No one really knew how far away the stars are, many philosophers have debated if they are even attached to our planet at all. Due to that, our world probably isn’t even flat, but spherical like a ball. I wonder if Koyle knows this information. Either way, with no land around, only sky, sea and an impossible horizon between them, I feel like the stars are so close that I can reach out and grab them.  
“There,” I point, “It sort of looks like an M shape.”   
“Really? I thought it looked more like a heart shape,” he says with mild surprise.   
“Okay then, well, I suppose yes. It looks like a fig leaf,” I shrug, the cold wind gusting through my cardigan.   
“Sure,” he smirks, “Anyway, use it as your point of reference. Line your sight up with the fig leaf.”   
I peer through the single eyepiece of the sextant, and all I can see is a condensed horizon. I can barely focus on a single point. I feel like I’m closer than ever to that unending ledge of water. “Whoa,” I have to pause, almost losing my balance.   
“It will take a while to get used to,” he chuckles.   
“How is it that I can see so far through the sextant?” I ask with awe.   
“Erm, I believe it is mirrors. Someone much smarter than me invented it,” he says. “It is a bit like our telescopes. The glass magnifies our sight. That’s how we can keep an eye on who is following us.”  
I go for another try, tilting the scope higher towards the stars. All I see for a moment is a blur of lights against the backdrop of a deep blue heaven. It is dizzying, and the rocking of the ship doesn’t help to steady my arm, nor does my uncontrollable shivering.  
“It doesn’t have to be exact, but when you find the heart constellation, you can measure its distance with the slider on the metal arc,” Koyle informs.   
“I can’t find it. I feel stupid. I bet I look stupid as well,” I groan, almost ready to give up.   
He laughs softly. I’m surprised by his patience, he must be able to tell that I’m getting aggravated. “Pull away from it and glance at the stars, point it where you think the constellation will be,” he utters.   
I take another look at the magnified sky, wobbling a bit as I aim the sextant. A grow acutely aware of Koyle moving to stand behind me, looking up at the same celestial formation that I’m searching for. He puts both his hands on either side of my shoulders, steadying me – anchoring me to the damp deck. A different sort of warmth fills me, one that starts at the top of my head and goes down to my feet, making my toes tingle. I find all the air escapes my lungs again, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the view in front of me.   
“You’re freezing, Jai,” he utters behind me.   
“I think I’ve found it,” I almost shout, trying to cover how awkward I feel.   
“All right, line it up with the arc, and you can clamp that slider down and see what number you’ve got,” Koyle says, his breath hot against the back of my neck.   
I do just that, my palms sweating despite the frigid wind. “It is on sixty. Is that good?”   
“We’ll write it down, and then I guess we will find out more when we check again tomorrow.”   
“You mean, you don’t know?”   
He lets go of my shoulders and takes a step away, reaching for the railings to lean up against instead. Thank goodness, I sigh inwardly with relief.   
“I don’t think anyone has tracked that constellation past The Grey,” he says slowly.   
“Does it actually have a name?”   
“I’ve always known it at Crux,” Koy says, pushing off from the rail. “Will you allow me to walk you back to your room?”   
I already know the route back very well. I could probably find my room with my eyes shut. It seems as though Koyle has more to say to me though, and he is concerned about my freezing temperature.   
“For a soldier, you’re awfully gentlemanly,” I poke fun.   
“I do try. I wish that I was more than just a soldier,” he says, taking the sextant from me.  
“You’re a ship captain,” I point out, sensing the slight resentment in his tone.  
“I hope to be remembered for more than just that. Can you imagine if we found another island?” Koyle proposes, but he doesn’t sound very optimistic. I can see the weight of his ambition and passion crushing over him, sinking him down.   
Sara was right about him being obsessed with venturing into the unknown. I am proof that other lands out there exist, yet to have been discovered. Perhaps I had arrived on a ship with a similarly fanatical captain, eager to explore the uncharted seas.   
“That would be neat.” I utter, as we descend into the belly of the ship.   
We soon make it to the door of my lodgings, a candlelit lamp swinging steadily overhead. I can tell he is still hesitant to part ways.   
“Would you like to come in?” I offer, reaching out for the door-handle.   
“Yeah. For a little bit. If you don’t mind?”  
I smile meekly. I’ve never seen Koyle this way. The usual spark in his dark eyes has gone dim. I head inside, half expecting Sara to be relaxing at the table. Surprisingly, she is nowhere to be seen, but she has left behind one of her empty tankards. I roll my eyes and cross the small room to find a shawl to wrap around my cold shoulders.   
“I can’t help but keep wondering what a fool I have been to have brought you onboard,” he admits. He stands in the centre of the faintly lit room, aimlessly glancing at the wooden walls.   
“Oh,” I avoid looking at him, and I’m lost for words. His honesty is so brutal.   
“Going through The Grey is dangerous,” he says quietly, “The crew know that, but I still can’t bear the thought of losing them. I hate that I am risking your life, as well.”   
“They trust you, that’s why.” I say, edging towards the corner of my bed.   
Koyle remains quiet, staring down at his boots.   
“I trust you.” I clarify.   
He turns his head slightly. His mouth pulls to one side, looking just as annoyed as he had done when he’d laid eyes on me at the Emperor’s banqueting table. But I can tell now that it is because he is perplexed. It is the face Koyle pulls whenever he is deep in thought and scrutiny.   
“Is it true that you would be happier not marrying Zalem?” he finally asks the question that I imagine has been on his mind all evening. “Saranya said that you wanted to call off the wedding.”   
“I don’t remember saying that,” I puzzle.   
“She did say you were very drunk,” he says with a dry laugh. “That’s why I’m sceptical towards the truth of it.”   
“Is there anything she doesn’t tell you?” I sigh, plopping down on my mattress.   
He shrugs, looking a little less hopeless. His brows furrow with worry instead. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to. It was rude of me to even bring it up.”  
“No,” I mutter. I feel shaken. At a loss of what to do with my quaking arms, I press my palms firmly against my lap. It is hard to decide what my heart wants. Do I throw away all of the years of favour that I have gained with Zalem Esquel? I could end up destitute, just because I want a few more years of freedom?   
“Well, then, I’ll bid you goodnight,” Koyle says. He masks what I think is horror behind a tight-lipped smile.   
“No, I mean,” I battle for the voice to come out of me. The real me. The one that has never believed that Little Fox was all I was deemed to be. “I don’t want the marriage.”   
“Oh,” he looks alarmed. I think that it is his turn to be speechless now. “You’re sure?” he asks after a long pause.   
I doubt I even sound convincing. But I am still shaking, despite the warmth of my navy, cotton shawl. “I am,” I nod slowly.   
“Well, erm,” Koyle’s eyebrows go up and down. I wonder what is going through his mind. “I can’t offer an easy life, but you’ll always have a home as part of my crew.”   
“Thank you. That mean’s a lot to me, Koyle.”   
“Ah,” he blinks quite rapidly, as if I’ve said something hurtful.   
“What’s wrong?”   
“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say my name.”  
I’m horrified. After all he’s done for me. Helped me better understand who I am. For the first time in my life, I’ve felt like a person, instead of an empty shell. All this time he has been calling me Jai, and I’ve never even considered his feelings.   
“I’m sorry,” I’m on my feet before I know it. I hold back my tears. I feel a burden lift from me now that my future looks so much brighter.   
“It’s easily done,” he jokes, shrugging.   
I take three large steps and cast my arms out to offer the captain a hug.   
There is a brief second of awkward unsurety. What if he isn’t a hugger? I question, but there is no other way that I can appreciate his kindness.  
Thankfully, Koyle wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his warm chest. I think he needs the affection just as much as I do. It can’t be easy putting on a brave face for the rest of the crew, whilst continually worrying about their safety.   
I’m not too sure about the etiquette of hugs between friends. I think letting go too early can be seen as disingenuous, but holding on too long can become uncomfortable, I imagine.   
Koyle could possibly be debating the same thing, as he lets go of me after a few more seconds pass. “So, then, it won’t matter too much if I return you back to Mereland a bit later than scheduled?” he asks mischievously.   
“I suppose not,” I realise. “How will I tell Zalem I’m calling it all off?”   
He pulls his annoyed expression. “You should write it in a letter,” he suggests.   
“Good idea. I’ll word it perfectly, so that he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”


	12. Reverence

I had slept incredibly well that night, knowing that I was no longer living a false life. I was living my life now. I have no memory of having this sort of freedom before, to make my own choices.   
I had left my room earlier than usual, joining Koyle and the rest of his crew for breakfast in the chaotic mess deck. He seemed back to his normal jovial, yet irksome self. But between his morning banter with Saranya and Alfie, the captain shared a few rare melancholic smiles with me.  
There was no sign of Makailen that morning, which wasn’t irregular. I’m starting to think that part of my training might be to find the reclusive man.  
Although, in this moment of time I was more concerned about what I would put in a letter to hand over to Zalem upon returning to Mereland. It would be sad to not see Cassie so often. I’d like to think that she would be happy with my choice, no matter how reckless it was.   
I find a spot on the main deck to sit down, my back up against a barrel, with my diary and graphite. I begin to jot down my adventure thus far, whilst being aware that I am procrastinating Zalem’s letter to break off the engagement.   
As I do so, Saranya and Koyle make space in the middle of the deck to spar with one another. I overhear sailors placing bets on who will win; Sara, by the sounds of it.  
I look up from my yellowy-paper diary, my sight tracking the crash of metal on metal. I move up higher to take a seat on the barrel so that I can watch their footwork.   
Saranya is lithe, and I wish that I had legs as long as hers. She continually uses them to trip and unbalance Koyle, as she lunges out with her Austa straight-sword.   
For all the talk of how incredible a soldier Koyle Culver is, Saranya shows him up. He is a bumbling wreck in comparison.   
He had taught me the basics, but Sara was the true expert with a blade. I watch her disarm Koyle, but throw his sword back for the duel to continue.   
“You’re so predictable, Baby-Dove,” she drawls. “Are you sure you don’t want to use your proper weapon? I’d prefer the challenge.”   
Koyle emits a forced laugh. “Would you now?”   
“Please. You’re embarrassing yourself.”  
“I wouldn’t want to accidentally remove a limb,” he says, brandishing his sword again.   
They go head to head for another round, parrying and dodging. Koyle seems to match her speed and her strength, yet there is something puzzling to me about the way he moves. As if the Austa sword is too long in his hand and he can’t aim his attacks properly. Sweat is dripping from his chin, his teeth are bared. I can’t tell if the captain is determined to get better or if he is starting to get frustrated.  
Sara is so nonchalant about getting past his guard once again and flicking the sword out of his hand.   
He grunts, rubbing his wrist. “That hurt.”   
“Want to stop?” she offers, smiling wickedly.   
Koyle picks his sword back up, readying his battle stance. Saranya continues dealing her punishing blows, backing him away, gaining the better positioning to disarm him a third time. She extends her leg at the same time, her foot landing squarely against Koyle’s chest, kicking him down onto his back.   
It looked painful, but to my surprise he rolls right back onto his feet, reaching for the disc of metal on his belt.  
“Here we go,” Sara cries triumphantly. “Finally warmed up?”   
Koyle appears too focused to retort. He winds the chakram up, holding it slightly behind his back, his free arm coming across his chest defensively. He turns his whole body into the throw, sending the weapon spinning through the air.   
I barely see Sara adjust her sword quickly to block the projectile. It pings off, sparks flying across the deck. Koyle is already in position to catch his chakram.   
He throws it several more times, metal bouncing and flying across the deck, too fast for my eyes to follow.   
The crew collectively take a step back, and the betting starts to get more serious.   
Koyle gets the momentum that he wants, throwing, stepping, turning and catching. His opponent can hardly make a step forward to fight back, as her sword is continually bombarded by the blur of flying steel.   
I watch and I absorb Koyle’s movements. It can’t be the same as throwing a dagger; those have a sharp point that embeds in the targets. The chakram is a circle of a sharp edge, gliding and slicing. It is a very unusual fighting style, to say the least.   
Sara ducks to avoid the flying attack, but Koyle anticipates it, throwing the chakram lower. Instead she deflects his next strike upwards, and the chakram hurtles skywards, almost slicing through one of the sail-cloths. Sara takes the opportunity to rush Koyle.   
He leaps up – higher than I ever thought humanly possible – retrieving his chakram to bring it down on the tip of Sara’s sword. The downward blow sends a tremor down her sword, and I think that she will let go. I couldn’t be more wrong, as she battles on through her misstep, charging Koyle again whilst he is still curled over.   
He comes back up, chakram spinning to deflect her attack.   
She goes for another strike, and Koyle catches her blade on the inside of his chakram, wrenching it out of her hand.   
Enraged by now, after Koyle so effortlessly took control of the fight with his preferred weapon, Sara throws her whole body into him, shoulder barging him down onto the wooden deck. They scuffle for a while, exchanging punches.   
“That’s enough!” Elisheva commands, pushing out from the crowd to break up the wrestling. “I don’t want to have to waste bandages on the pair of you again.”   
Koyle is guarding his face with his chakram, until Saranya finally comes to her senses and gets off him. She plants a swift kick against his ribs before collecting her sword and sauntering away.   
Alfie steps forward, offering one of his big hands out to help the captain up. “Are you all right, Koy?” I overhear the cook ask, over the din of the crew arguing over who won their bets.   
“Damn, she’s crazy,” he says. Koy chuckles with disbelief, gingerly prodding the wound on his lip and his fingertips come away bloody.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Elisheva advises.   
I’m so busy watching the commotion that I’m unaware of Makail standing beside me until he speaks. “Ready for training, kiddo?” he asks, hovering into my view.   
“Yes,” I start, closing my diary, which had been untouched and forgotten about in my lap for the whole duel. 

Makailen spends much of the day showing me how something as simple as my breathing can help me to hide in plain sight, as well as steady my aim before throwing a dagger. We go over footwork as well; how to step without being heard and how to hide without being seen. I doubt that he would have ever needed these abilities as a noble. Perhaps he had trained himself so that he could avenge his family.   
I can’t imagine the pain of his loss.   
“Need a break?” he wonders, reaching for the flask that he always sets on top of one of the many barrels inside the cargo hold.   
He offers me it first, and I take a gulp of cool water. I pull myself up to sit on a barrel, handing Makailen his metal flask back.   
His hood tilts back slightly as he drinks from it. I wonder if it would be rude to ask him to show me his face. He gets to see mine – how red and sweaty I must get from practice – it is only fair.  
On second thoughts, maybe he only just survived the attack on his family, the chances are Koyle wasn’t joking and Makail is completely mutilated and scarred. I doubt I would want to show my face either, if that was the case.  
“I think something is bothering Koyle,” he utters. The opening of his hood is still facing his flask. But there isn’t anyone else in our training area that he could be talking to.   
Another thing Makail and I have in common, then. We aren’t the ones to act or speak often, we are the types of people to watch and observe. I’m sure we over-think situations more than other people as well.   
“I wouldn’t be able to tell, I’ve not known him long enough,” I say.   
“He’s more obsessive, than usual,” he emphasises the last part.   
“He did have a bit of a break-down in my room last night,” I pass on what I hope is useful information for his friend to know.   
“What about?”   
“He’s worried he’s going to endanger us all with this voyage,” I say lightly.   
“Sounds about right. That’s because Sento isn’t here to hold his hand,” his hood moves as he nods. “He’s not pestering you, is he?”   
“What?” I ask, my voice growing high pitched, “Of course not.”   
Makailen leans back on a barrel, putting his flask to one side. He is very still for a moment. “Koyle has a really bad habit of idolising people, especially women. No one can meet his unrealistic expectations, leaving him disappointed and other people hurt. You’d think he would have learnt better by now…”   
I feel a bit worried and self-conscious. “What do you mean?”   
“You must know, his brother raised him. He’ll always look up to Sento, but Koyle has not really ever had a mother-figure. He spent a long time obsessing over Elisheva when she first joined the Culver’s crew,” he explains. I think he might be telling me this to warn me.  
“Really?” I’m surprised, “W-what, romantically?”   
One of Makailen’s quiet and breathy laughs escapes from his hood. “I’m not sure. I don’t think Koyle even knew what he wanted from her.”  
“But Eli is so mature, and well, he just is anything but that,” I say with amusement.   
“Exactly,” he says, in a tone that makes me think he is smirking beneath his shroud. “Please tell me that you didn’t take the Good Captain to your bed last night?”  
“Excuse me?” my voice is shrill again as I wave the ring on my finger towards him. I’m not sure why I am still wearing it. Good for situations like this, however.   
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he chuckles dryly with relief.   
“We just hugged, if you must know,” I say, folding my arms.   
“Oh no… that might give him the wrong idea.”   
“What should I do? Be horrible to him?”   
He shrugs beneath his cloak. “I don’t think there is anything you can do at this point, besides jumping ship?”  
I laugh at his morbid joke.   
“Unless you want the idiots’ affections?” Makail asks slowly.   
“To be unrealistically idolised?”  
“It could have its perks,” he teases.   
“Why me though?”   
He pauses for a while. “Because you’re extraordinary,” he utters.   
I know that. I get enough stares to know that I’m not ordinary.   
Makailen turns his body towards me, gesturing to the empty space around us. “Your ability to learn new skills so fast is proof of that. Imagine what you could have accomplished already if the general hadn’t kept you hidden away for so long.”   
“You knew about my lack of freedom?”   
“Jai, who do you think tracked you down so that Koyle could finally get you away from that tyrant?” he asks so plainly.   
It makes sense, but I’m still devastated. “You were planning it for a while… that Commander that was killed in Yala…” I gape, glancing up and down at his shadowy form.   
“Clever, as well, I see.”   
“You killed a man just to get me here? I go from one puppet master to another, it’s just the strings are a lot harder to see when I’m not on land,” I exclaim, hopping out of my seat.   
“That – that was not part of – BAH!” Makailen struggles to produce the words he wants. I finally watch the assassin lose his calm temperament. His arms go rigid against his sides as he tries again to get his point across. “We never intended to trap or control you Jai. You’re free to return to Mereland, go back to Zalem if that is preferable.”   
“I don’t even want to marry Zalem anymore,” I scream out. It feels good to admit to another person.  
“That’s fine,” he barks back.   
“Good,” I stomp my foot without realising my temper is rising. Rage that I have buried deep for so long begins to surface up. Makailen is the last person that I want to hurt with it, though. He is nothing but kind to me.  
He takes a step away. I think I’ve made things awkward. He begins to pace up and down in the dark hold, tense and restless.   
“I presume Koyle told you about my past?” he asks.   
Terror mixes with my anger. “H-he did.”   
“Then you know,” he stops dead in front of me, “You know I have no respect for ranks or titles. We all enter this world the same, we all leave the same way as well. People struggle for material wealth and power but they cannot take it with them. Men like Zalem will take what ever they want. Men like Emperor Hulan. Never giving back. Only taking and taking until there is nothing left for you to live for.”   
I crumble a little bit. I can’t see Makail’s eyes, but he is looking straight through me. He knows how hollow Zalem has made me.   
“Is that why you offered to train me?” I ask timidly.   
“Yes,” he says clearly. “Only you can protect yourself. When everyone is out to get you, the one person you can trust is yourself.”   
“That sounds like a lonely way of living,” I point out.   
“Surviving has been my only choice,” he says with a growl, “My life ended a long time ago.”   
I’m lost for words. I stare up at the menacing figure towering over me. I can’t even blame him for the way that he feels.   
“I’m sorry,” he apologises, turning slightly away from me. “I didn’t mean to lose control.”   
I shake my head slowly, reaching out for him attentively. “No, I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that those people made you feel this way.”   
His head is bowed. He still won’t look at me. I take his hand, hoping to bring him comfort. His fingers are surprisingly cold against mine.   
Makailen remains motionless; unsurprisingly I can’t even hear his breathing. But I still don’t let go of his hand. I want to hold onto this moment, to reassure him – to prove that there is still good in people.   
“What happened to your family, Jai?” he asks softly.   
“I don’t remember.”   
“A symptom of trauma, perhaps?” he stoops slightly, “I can’t remember what my siblings looked like. Their faces are lost to me.”  
I understand and nod.   
Makailen continues to lower his body until he is sat on the floor of the dusty hold, his left foot tucked under the knee of his outstretched lengthy, right leg.   
I still haven’t broke contact with his hand, and I sit down beside him. I wonder if he has ever opened up like this to anyone before. Has he been too afraid? Has he scared away people in the past?  
…Left only to his lonely torment. I know that sensation all too well.  
“We’re alike, you and I,” he murmurs.   
I think that he is talking about us both having no family left, but he lifts his other hand to draw back his hood. I brace myself for the scars, determined to give him the respect that he deserves.   
But there isn’t a single mark on his slim face. Long, golden hair spills out from his cloak. As I expect, his brow is a thin, stern line and his mouth is down-turned and sullen. But he is far from hideous. Koyle had been teasing me after all.   
After so many days of wanting to put his voice to his face, our eyes finally connect. I can’t place his eye colour at all; green, yellow and brown mix within his irises. Makailen’s appearance is just as rare as my own.   
“You’re not Merean?” I ask with disbelief.   
“I am. House Krysanthos was one of Merelands’ longest standing families.”  
“The name sounds familiar,” I recall. From the history books that I have read, House Krysanthos was indeed around before Emperor Hulan Brava’s bloodline came into power.   
“Yet, none of our allying Houses lifted a finger to bring justice to us,” he admits. “No one believed that I survived as well. Only Koyle offered me his hand.”   
I’m overwhelmed by the misery that he has endured. Makailen has no time for power or wealth, when all he ever wanted was to grow old with his family around him.   
I reach out to touch his thick, beautiful hair without even thinking about it.   
He continues to watch me, allowing me to caress his hair. His breathing is still soft, and I can see the cold vengeance irradiating through his unusual eyes. Despite his bitter expression, I can’t help but feel a connection with him.  
After some time, Makailen begins to thaw his icy gaze and lifts his hand away from mine. I’m shattered for a split second, until he curls his arm around my waist. I scoot closer, resting my head against his solid chest.   
“People like us need to stick together,” I vow. I shut my eyes, and let my arm wrap around his torso.   
He ruffles my much shorter hair with his other hand. I’m amazed by how once I had thought that Makailen was menacing, but in his arms I’ve never felt so safe.


	13. Crossing

My diary is forgotten about once again for the next few days. I manage to completely put off the letter that I should be writing for Zalem, too.   
My time is always split between my daily combat training with Makailen, and learning how to navigate with Koyle’s sextant at dusk. Saranya helps me to unwind, bringing wine or ale to my room often before bed.   
She was over the moon when I told her about breaking off the engagement. I think about how much I appreciate her encouragement as I make my way to the mess deck for dinner. I’m all too aware about the way in which I walk. All the finer details that Makailen has been teaching me recently, allow me to effortlessly move without a sound. I’m sure by now, that news has gone around the crew that I am the student of the deadliest man onboard. Despite the outward appearances, I can easily say that Makailen is my best friend. My first ever, best friend.   
“All hands on deck!” A messenger yells into the mess deck.   
Meals are discarded as sailors hurry to attention.   
My reminiscing is cut short and I’m curious to investigate the commotion. As I reach the main deck, I begin to prepare myself for another one of Koyle’s crazy manoeuvres to get us away from pirates.   
Instead of sunshine, I am met by a bleak and thoroughly clouded sky. The air feels dense and heavy; in need of a good down pour of rain to eliminate the tension.   
“It’s The Grey,” one of the sailors next to me exclaims.   
Today was The Day. We had reached the most dangerous part of our journey and it had happened so unceremoniously. I had expected some warning from Koyle a day ago perhaps. But the massive storm blocking our voyage had somehow snuck up on us all.   
I dash to the helm of The Loan to join Koyle at the wheel.   
“QUICKLY, bring those sails in!” he barks, near deafening me. “They’ll be the first to shred! Oh, hello, Jai.”   
“Hi,” I tip-toe behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Are we heading through that?”   
“If you’re having second thoughts, now is a good time for us to turn back,” he says loudly over the fury of the storm’s wind.   
I watch as his hair stands on end, and feel my own being lifted by the gust.   
“I think you enjoy this too much,” I mock.   
Makailen joins us. I’m a bit annoyed that even after all this time I still didn’t detect his approach. He’s holding a coil of rope in his hand, whilst the storm is playing havoc with his cloak. He’s given up on keeping his hood secure, and his long blond hair is free and whipping in the air.   
“What’s that for?” Koyle asks suspiciously.   
“After last time, I’m going to tether you to this wheel,” Makailen replies casually.   
“And if we capsize?”   
“I suppose you’ll be going down with your ship, Cap’in,” he mocks.   
“Son on a – ” Koyle withholds his insult. At the same time, he almost loses control of the wheel and has to catch it from spinning the ship in a full turn.   
“I told you he was ugly,” Koyle winks at me as Makailen begins to wrap the rope around his waist. “Ah, not so tight, M.”   
“I know. I’ve already seen his face,” I say, folding my arms to make a show of how unimpressed I am with the captain’s lies.  
The captain’s dark eyebrows rise as he gapes at me.   
“Eyes forward, thank you, Captain,” Makailen orders, and anchors him to the bottom of the wheel with a tight knot.   
The ship dips and dives over the thrashing waves and I start to sense all of the colour drain from my surroundings. Heavy rain begins to pour over us, as Koyle battles to control our path through the swirl of dark clouds.   
My clothes are quickly soaked through and I feel like a little girl again. I’m at the mercy of the sea, floating away on a broken part of the ship that had kept me alive long enough to be spotted by Koyle Culver.   
Had this very same storm destroyed my original ship? Were we going to make it out this time? I go down to my knees, battling with my distressing memories. I’m clawing at the wet wooden planks of the upper deck, whilst my mind is reliving the worst incident of my life.  
I feel something warm drape around me. It takes me a while to register that Makailen is gathering me up in his dark cloak. I shiver uncontrollably, but I’m numb to the cold. It’s the images of my past that are terrorising me. I see his face and his skin appears grey, his hair white and his abnormal eyes are black – like Koyle’s. All the colour is gone from my world, whilst I struggle to gulp down the violently rushing air.   
“Take her to my cabin,” Koy orders frantically. 

I return to my senses on top of Koyle’s luscious bed. I’m lying on my side, curled up around Makailen’s cloak.   
I still can’t stop shaking.   
There is no telling how much time has gone by, whether or not we are still stuck inside The Grey, I have no clue. But we haven’t drowned yet. I can’t be dead, if my heart is still racing in my chest.   
I hear the cabin door faintly click shut and Elisheva sits on the bed beside me.  
“Darling Jai,” she says soothingly, stroking my hair. “Can you sit up? I brought you some peppermint tea.”   
I let out a small whimper of appreciation. “Thank you,” I murmur and sit up against the wooden headboard.   
“This will warm you up,” she smiles, placing the hot mug in my hands.   
“Are – are we out of the storm?” I ask fearfully.   
“Almost. It is very windy out there,” Eli informs.   
“I’m so embarrassed,” I admit, bringing the mug to my face. The tea smells amazing, I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoy peppermint.   
She smiles so peacefully. There is no trickery in her warm brown eyes, only contentment. I wish that I could share her tranquil happiness.   
“I think you’ve done so well,” Eli admires. “On my first voyage I was continually sick. I still get a little nauseous now. But I always stock up on dried mint for occasions like these.”  
“Why – why do you sail? You don’t strike me as the adventurous type,” I wonder.  
“Someone has to look after the reckless ones,” she replies with a slight laugh. “I suppose I enjoy the freedom of it all, as well.”   
I raise my eyebrows as I take a sip of menthol tea. Now doesn’t seem like the right time to pry into her past, to find out why a ship is preferable freedom to Mereland, but it does parallel my own situation.   
“Would you like me to keep you company?” Elisheva offers.   
I nod vigorously, clutching the hot tea to my chest. “Will you teach me how to play chess?” I ask, glancing over at Koyle’s game table.   
“Certainly, Jai,” she says, irradiating pure calm. 

It starts to get late. Barely any light is coming through the windows at the back of the cabin. To my relief, the howl of wind has calmed down as well.   
Halfway through our fourth game of chess, the door to the cabin is pried open slowly. Koyle enters, followed by Makailen. Both men are soaked to the core. Their white shirts are practically see-through, their hair bedraggled messes. Even for his standards, Koyle is a wreck.  
“Well done, Koy. You must be exhausted,” Elisheva pauses on her next turn to examine the captain.   
“Pah, that’s the understatement of the century,” Koyle groans, collapsing onto his bed face-first.  
“Stay here my darlings, I’ll fetch a well earned meal for us to share,” she suggests, her long purple dress rustles as she stands. “We can continue our game after, Jai?”  
I nod.   
“Thanks, Eli,” Koyle says, his voice muffled by his duvet.   
“Are you staying, as well?” Elisheva puzzles. To me it looks like she has only just realised Makailen is standing at the side of the cabin, a puddle forming around his feet.   
He opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, too tired to speak, by the looks of it. A deep set frown forms on his damp face.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we have met before,” the medic says, extending her hand to touch his shoulder.   
I watch his body tense up, just as he had done when Koyle had put a hand on him on the day we had first met. I haven’t seen the assassin this uncomfortable for a while.   
“That’s Makail,” Koyle says with alarm. He sits up quickly, his black hair sticking up at all angles. He even manages a lazy but playful grin.   
“Oh? OH,” Eli’s hands cover her face with surprise. “Boy, do I feel silly,” and she begins to laugh with embarrassment. “You forgot to mention how handsome he is.”   
“Yeah-yeah,” Koyle rolls his eyes.   
I can’t help but laugh as well, feeling a bit sorry for Elisheva’s blunder.   
“I’ll be back soon,” she declares, swiftly leaving the cabin.   
“Cloak. Please,” Makailen demands, his jaw locked and his hand outstretched towards the bed.   
Koyle bundles the garment up and throws it at his friend. “You didn’t have to be rude to Eli,” he scolds.   
“I didn’t say anything,” Makailen growls, putting his cloak back on, despite his wet clothes underneath.   
“Exactly. You just stood there and glared at her. As if it is her fault that you never show your face,” Koy defends.   
“You’re tired. I’m not arguing with you when you’re like this.”   
“When I’m like this?” the captain barks with disbelief.   
Makailen puts his hood up, making a move towards the door. “Enjoy your meal, Jai. And your game,” he says coolly. I like to believe that he is smiling at me beneath his hood, as he mentally drowns out Koyle’s arguing.   
Koyle clenches his hands into tight fists, scowling at the wet spot where Makail had been standing. I can almost tell that he wants to throw something at Makail, but he has already gone.   
“You did it,” I say quietly, feeling a little bit awkward. “You kept us all alive.”   
“For now,” he rocks backwards into his pillows. “Who knows what is lurking out there in the uncharted seas?”   
“Treasure, hopefully,” I say optimistically.


End file.
